


LITTLE MISS MATCHMAKER

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-11
Updated: 1999-09-11
Packaged: 2018-11-10 06:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11121834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Will Fraser and Thatcher become Robin's new parents? This story is a sequel to UNEXPECTED VISIT.





	LITTLE MISS MATCHMAKER

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

 

matchmaker

**Author's disclaimer** : Although the story is mine,  
it is  
a work of fiction based on the character of Due South. All Characters  
portrayed here belong to Alliance. Please do not print/copy/download  
or  end any part of this story to anyone else, other than for your  
personal enjoyment. Thank you.

**Author's notes** : Hi, it's me again, I'm ready to try my hand once more at a good Ben and Meg story. Let me know what you think! This is a sequel to the Unexpected Visit series. Please read on and I hope you enjoy it. rated **PG-13** for language ans mild sexual content. 

Please contact me at   
I welcome any comments about my story. 

 BY: Amethyst   
  

**LITTLE MISS MATCHMAKER**

  
********

Margaret Thatcher sighed and removed her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose wearily. She had been staring at reports all day and her eyes were beginning to glaze over from the strain and her head was starting to ache. She glanced at the clock on her wall and was surprised to find it was so late, already after seven. Turnbull would have already gone home, Fraser was probably out somewhere with Kowalski, as he almost always was when he wasn't working. A stab of unusual jealousy pierced her heart; the Mountie spent more time with that damn detective than he did at work. She shook her head, she was being silly, but sometimes Fraser seemed so happy to see his partner and always eager to leave, as though being with her at the consulate was hard on him. They had kissed at Christmas, and Thatcher had told herself it was just the overwhelming surprise brought on by his gift to her, a homemade shawl. They had not spoken of that night since, though at times she caught Fraser watching her under those deliciously long lashes of his, and she immediately sent him a cool look in return. He had to understand that they could never be more than what they were, a superior officer and her subordinate, despite the face that Margaret's pulse quickened every time she  
saw him.   
        He always seemed so natural with Ray, why couldn't he be that way with her? Again she shook her head; she was contradicting herself again. He wanted to be closer to Fraser, but she herself had set the guidelines that kept them apart and Fraser kept within those boundaries dutifully, damn him.  Sometimes she wished he's walk into her office pull her from her chair and smother her with kisses, and to hell with duty. She often fantasized how it would be to be in his strong arms as he swiped her desk clear and took her right there in a primal lust that needed to be sated by them both. A knock   
sounded at her door and she jumped, startled to be caught daydreaming.   
        "Come in." she admitted curtly and Fraser opened the door and walked inside. He was still in his Red Serge, which she found strange because he usually changed before going with Kowalski. Her cheeks reddened remembering what she had just been thinking about, those powerful arms and fantastic thighs that his uniform now covered respectively. "What is it, Fraser?" she demanded, harsher than she meant to, but he made her nervous.   
        "Forgive me for intruding." he offered politely. "But I noticed that your light was still on and wondered if I might be able to assist you with whatever you are doing."   
        "You are off duty, Constable." she pointed out, wondering why it was suddenly so warm in here. Fraser nodded.   
        "As are you, Sir." he reminded quietly. "I just thought you might get whatever you are working on done faster if you had some help."   
        "Eager to get rid of me, Fraser?" she shot stonily and regretted her words instantly at his blush and sudden fidgeting. He lowered his eyes.   
        "No, Sir." he relied. "I just thought you might like to get home before the storm hits." Her eyes widened.   
        "What storm?" she asked.   
        "The weather bureau has issued a very severe thunderstorm and flash flood warning, Sir." He explained calmly. Ah, that explained why he wasn't already out with the detective. "It has already started to rain heavily and I believe the storm will only get worse, so I wanted to make sure you got home safely." Thatcher was touched by his concern. She nodded and dropped the file and her glasses on the desk.   
           "Thank you, Fraser." she allowed softly as she rose from her chair. "Perhaps I should head home." Fraser nodded and retrieved her coat for her. She switched off the light in her office and closed the door, then allowed Fraser to escort her to the front door of the Consulate.   
        "Would you like me call a cab, Sir?" he suggested. "It might be safer than driving yourself." She shook her head wryly.   
        "You've ridden in the cabs in this city, Fraser." she reminded with a small smile. "I'll take my chances with the storm." Fraser nodded.   
        "Understood." he replied as he opened the door, only to be blasted by a gale force wind and spraying rain. They stepped back and he managed to shut the door, they were both drenched from those few seconds.   
        "Guess I won't take my chances." she muttered, pushing her plastered hair away from her forehead. Fraser ran to retrieve towels and handed them to her.   
          "I hadn't realized it had already gotten so dangerous." he remarked, the consulate was well insulated and he had not heard the storm outside. "I apologize for not coming for you earlier." Thatcher dismissed his words with a wave of her hand as she attempted to dry her hair. She hadn't even fastened her coat, so even as Fraser slipped it from her arms, she noticed the front of her blouse was now plastered to her as well, revealing the light outline of the lacy bra she wore underneath. Fraser had also noticed her plight and in a moment he returned with one of his long sleeve red flannel shirts.   
        "Thank you, Fraser." she offered heading toward the bathroom to change. She glanced back at him and indicated his own dripping uniform. "You'd better change as well."   
        "Yes, Sir." he agreed and waited until she closed the door of the bathroom before heading back to his office.   
        Thunder boomed overhead, making Thatcher jump as she peeled her sodden clothes from her and hung them to dry. She pulled on Fraser's shirt, expecting it to be rough, but it was actually velvet soft from many washings and she detected Fraser's own unique scent on it. She couldn't help bringing it closer to her face and inhaling deeply, closing her eyes momentarily. Shaking herself, she combed her hair away from her face, thankful that she had gotten it cut short and so it wasn't as difficult to manage. Her mascara was running and she was starting to look like a raccoon, so she quickly scrubbed her face clean, and applied a touch of powder and lipstick from her purse.   
Fraser's shirt fell well past her knees, and she was having difficulty picking up things, because the sleeves were so long on her. Finally she was ready to face the Mountie, no longer feeling like a drowned rat, though she did feel slightly silly in his shirt. For some reason she expected Fraser to change into his spare uniform, but when she emerged, he was leaned against the far window in tight blue jeans and a light blue flannel shirt, Diefenbaker was cowering under the desk.   
        "What's wrong with him?" she asked him of the wolf. Fraser sighed, his arms had been folded across his chest, but when he noticed her he stood more erectly.   
        "He doesn't like storms, much." supplied Fraser simply, shooting Diefenbaker a scolding look. He glanced back at her, trying not to think how good she looked in his shirt. "Red suits you." She stared at him and felt her cheeks grow warm. Was he teasing her? He hadn't done that before.   
        "Yes, well. Thank you." she stammered almost shyly. She walked over and stood beside him to glance out at the storm, her bare feet cold on the hard wood floors. "It does look bad out there."   
        "Ray called and said they were closing down some of the roads already and that we might need to prepare for a power outage." He stated, catching the look of anxiety that flashed across her beautiful face. Was she afraid of the dark, or simply worried about being here with him alone in such circumstances. He reached down and began to roll up the sleeves of the shirt she wore, until her hands once again became visible. She smiled up at him gratefully, saw something in his eyes that spoke of deep, uncharted feelings and looked away.   
        "I believe there are some candles in the kitchen, Fraser." she indicated, her voice giving nothing away. "Perhaps you should retrieve them and we'll settle in my office." Fraser nodded and went to do as he was told. Thatcher almost sagged against the window in relief. How could one man have such control over her emotions? When she had emerged from the bathroom and saw him leaning against the window she immediately thought she had dreamed him off the book cover of Lumberjack weekly. He looked so virile, so masculine and his muscles seemed to almost strain against the thin material of denim and flannel that covered them. His shirt was open slightly at the neck and she caught a glimpse of the smooth chest underneath, surprised that he wore no T-shirt underneath as he usually did. And those eyes, isn't there a law against having eyes that blue and sparkling, like the clearest, coldest part of the deep Atlantic?   
        "Sir?" that soft voice that was so much Fraser's filtered through her thoughts and she turned toward him, once again embarrassed to be caught fantasizing about him. He held a held a dozen candles, his kerosene lamp and a box of matches.   
        "Yes, Fraser?" she responded, determined not to show her nervousness.   
        "Did you wish to go to your office or..."   
        "Yes, that's fine." she assured heading in that direction, with Fraser and Diefenbaker following. She glanced down at the wolf and sighed, opening the door to allow him inside.   
        "I can have him leave if you prefer." offered Fraser, sensing her aggravation with the animal. She shook her head and switched on her light.   
        "No." she returned. "Just don't let him chew on anything." Diefenbaker wined at her in protest, how dare she think he'd do such a thing, he was a wolf after all, not some trained house dog. She ignored him, but shot him a warning look when he tried to climb up on her expensive leather couch. He sighed and settled beside it. Fraser left the candles and lamp on her desk, placing the matches close to them. Thatcher curled up on the sofa, drawing her feet up under her and silently wished now she had bought a television for her office.   
        "Would you like something to drink or eat, Sir?" he offered he seemed uncertain to wander far from the door.   
        "Yes, Fraser." she decided. "Get us some drinks and snacks, since we'll be here a while. My purse is on the desk." Fraser nodded, ignored her offer for money, and went out. He returned a few minutes later with drinks and snacks from the vending machine and a blanket from his cot. He offered it to her and she smiled at his thoughtfulness, spreading it over her. He also brought with him a game of cards.   
        "Would you care to play a game?" he offered politely as the lights flickered and another loud crash sounded above them.   
        "Sounds like the roof is going to come off." she joked looking skyward. "Perhaps you should light the candles, Fraser." He shook his head and instead set his lantern and the matches next to the sofa, as he settled next to her, shuffling the cards.   
        "We don't know how long the lights will be out if they go," he explained. "It's better to wait." She nodded, he was right of course. "What would you like to play?" he asked quietly, as the lights flickered again and he once more caught a glimpse of Thatcher's anxiety.   
        "I..I don't know, what do you know how to play?" she returned.   
        "Well, Ray Vecchio taught me how to play poker." he offered. "Other than old maid it's really the only one I know well." Thatcher smiled, she wasn't much of a card player herself, but she did know the basic rules of poker.   
        "Poker it is then," she paused. "We don't have anything to play for though. What did you and Vecchio use as stakes?" Fraser blushed and stared down at the cards in his hands.   
        "Cookies. ." he muttered "With my new Ray we play for air." She smiled at his term, thinking of Ray Kowalski as a puppy Fraser had purchased at the store.   
        "Air?" she laughed. "Well, that's interesting." She spied a couple of bags of peanuts that he had brought with the snacks, and grabbed them up, handing him a bag. "These will do." she remarked, pulling her legs into a comfortable sitting position and smoothing out the blanket between them. Fraser settled back further, so they would have room to put the cards, then retrieved a small dish off her desk for the anti. He dealt the cards and the game began.   
        In the fourth hand, Thatcher was winning, the lights went out and a small scream escaped her lips. She felt Fraser's and on her knees reassuringly.   
        "It's okay." he promised, pulling his hand away and reaching down for the lantern. soon the room was engulfed in the soft yellow glow, but it wasn't enough light for Thatcher and she requested he light the candles as well. She was surprised when Fraser hesitated over her demand, but then he rose and did as she requested. She watched him quietly and was surprised to see that his hands were shaking as they held the match to the individual wicks.   
        "Fraser?" she questioned gently and he dropped the match. He bent and quickly retrieved it, before it caught the rug on fire, and blew it out just before it singed his fingers. She  threw the blanket back, careful of their playing pile, and rose to walk over to him. she put a hand on his arm and felt him tense at her touch. "Are you alright?"   
        "Of course." he replied quietly, but there was something in his voice that caused her to not believe him. She turned him to face her and the shadowed light caught his closed and almost pained expression.   
        "What is it, Benton?" she insisted shocking herself when her hand seemed to rise of it's own volition to rest against  his cheek. She saw the pulse jump close to his jaw and his lips thinned.   
        "Nothing." he lied. "I..I'm just not much one for candles." she tilted her head curiously. What could have someone possibly have against candles? Perhaps it was the fire? No, she decided, she'd watched him run into a burning building to save a woman from a fiery death, if fire was his fear he wouldn't have done that.   
        "Would you like to talk about it?" she offered and he shook his head, averting his eyes. She nodded and leaned almost across him to blow out the candles behind them. He stared down at her.   
        "I..I thought you wanted..." he stammered confused and she shrugged, offering him a small smile, as she blew out the rest.   
        "The lantern will be fine." she replied moving away to extinguish the last candle, further over on the desk. When she turned back, Fraser was watching her intently. "It's okay, Fraser." she told him, returning to her position on the sofa and settling back under the blanket, and it was okay, she wasn't afraid of the dark with him here. He reached up to caress his right brow as she patted his seat. "I'm winning, com'on and let me finish you off." He smiled at her then and she was glad for her small sacrifice. He resumed his seat and picked up his cards, but not before he caught her hand and held it to his lips.   
        "Thank you." he whispered, kissing the back of her hand. If Thatcher hadn't been trained to control herself, she would have melted against him and begged him to take her right then, but she was a Mountie and schooled in complete control. She nodded curtly and pulled her hand away from the warmth of his.   
 Hopefully this storm will blow over soon." She commented, uncertain if she was referring to the weather outside or the heated storm that seemed to be brewing between her and Fraser. Fraser however seemed oblivious to any sparks that might be flying between them, other than the usual tension that seemed to surround them.   
         Another crack of thunder shattered the silence and Thatcher's cards flew out of hand in fright. She chided herself for being so nervous, but darn it she didn't like storms! She also noticed the room was starting to grow dimmer and she glanced at Fraser who was inspecting his lamp.   
         "I just need to get more kerosene." He told her rising to his feet with the lamp in his hand. "I'll be right back." Thatcher shot to here feet next to him.   
         "I'll go with you." She informed, trying to sound calm.   
         "I'll only be a minute..." Fraser protested, but Thatcher was already moving closer to him, as lightening lit up the room momentarily.   
         "Where the lamp goes, I go, Fraser." She stated firmly and Fraser hid his smile.   
         "As you wish." He relented as he told Diefenbaker to stay and they headed out to his office. Fraser could usually see quite well in the dark, and with the dimming light he still found his room easily. Just as he opened the door however, the lamp died and Thatcher screamed and reached for the first available object, Fraser.   
         "Fraser?" she whispered into the darkness, "What happened?"   
         "The lamp went out." He replied simply, making no move to step away from her. "I have to get the kerosene, could you let go for a moment?" Thatcher released him hastily and had to fight not to grab onto him again as she felt him move away. She heard him moving around inside, seeming at ease with the darkness that she herself could never feel. She felt her way inside the room and strained to see Fraser, but it was pitch inside the tiny office. Something moved against her leg and she screamed, pitching forward into something hard then felt herself falling. She heard a low grunt from the object below her and she realized it was Fraser.   
         "I'm sorry." She offered, reveling in the feel of his arms that had instinctually wrapped around her to keep her from injury. "I..something touched my leg."   
         "Diefenbaker." Muttered Fraser, as he tried to ascertain the best way out of his current predicament. Thatcher's body was covering his and any movement would probably lightly injure him on her part. He took a deep breath. "Keep your arms around me and I am going to sit up."   
         "Oh, I..." she had started to scramble off him when her knee came in contact with something warm and hard. She heard Fraser's swallowed yelp and drew still, glad for once that it was dark in here and he couldn't see her embarrassment. Fraser's own face was flaming.   
         "Please, just lie still a moment." He requested, getting his breath back. He didn't want to take the risk of having her slide off him sideways because he didn't know how far on the cot they were. So once again he wrapped his arms around her, and hauled her forward, so she straddled him and he was no longer any danger from her knees. However this was a much more intimate position and he knew he had to get them separated quickly to avoid any further embarrassment. Thatcher sat up, slowly, pulling Fraser with her, then Fraser stood and lifted them both from the bed, letting her slowly slide to her feet.   
         "Thank you." She whispered, still holding on to him.   
         "Certainly." He replied just as quietly. They stood there for a long moment, until another clap of thunder startled them apart. "The kerosene, I dropped it." She felt him kneel down, beside her and start feeling around on the floor for the small canister. She had to force her hands to her sides, god she wanted to reach out and grab his hair and say, Oh Fraser, while you're down there... Her face flamed again and her instinct to run took over, only she had barely gotten a step when she stumbled over the kneeling Mountie. He was at her side in an instant, asking if she was all right. Thatcher pushed him away angrily, what a fool she was being.   
         "I'm fine." She stated firmly as she reached out and felt what might have been the corner of the desk, and pulled herself up. A sharp pain shot through her right leg and she cried out.   
         "You're hurt." Fraser accused concerned.   
         "It's nothing, Fraser." She insisted, she couldn't handle him touching her right now, she was too close to giving into her feelings.   
         "Careful," he warned as she staggered on the good leg. He knelt beside her and she couldn't help but brace herself on his shoulders. "Is it your ankle?" he asked her, carefully wrapping his fingers around her right calf. Thatcher stiffened at his touch, but he mistook her tension for a sign of pain. His fingers slid down her leg to just above her ankle, while his other hand cupped her foot; now she was almost completely dependent on him for her balance.   
         "I'm sure it's..OW!" She bit her lip as he turned her ankle just enough to cause her pain. He apologized as his fingers slid expertly over the area, checking for swelling. Finally, he carefully stood and lifted her into his arms. "Fraser!" she declared indignantly as he set her on the top of his desk.   
         "It seems like you've given it a bad wrench." He told her, locating the kerosene canister and replacing the empty one from the lamp. He pulled a match from his shirt pocket and lit it, casting a soft glow about them once more. Once again he knelt before her, to examine her ankle in the light, and she couldn't help but think he could easily be fitting her for Cinderella's slipper.  He held her foot as delicately as one might handle rare crystal and she resisted the urge to thank him for being so gentle with her.   
         "It will probably be fine by morning." She told him, as he rose to face her. She realized her position on the desk would be perfect to...there she goes again with her damned fantasies! She blushed and averted her eyes.   
         "Are you all right?" he asked her when she looked away.   
         "I just feel so stupid!" she cursed herself. "I can't believe I tripped over you, twice!" Fraser fought back a smile.   
         "Well, actually the first time was more of a joint effort." He commented and she stared at him, once more he seemed to be teasing her. She voiced her question.   
         "Constable, are you making fun of me?" His look was one of instant horror.   
         "Oh no, Sir!" he assured quickly. "I would never presume to do such a thing." She watched him for a second longer than needed, then lowered her eyes again.   
         "Too bad." She muttered under breath.   
         "Pardon?" he asked her.   
         "Nothing." She dismissed quickly. "So now what shall we do?"   
         "I'll take you back to your office." He suggested. "You'll be more comfortable there." She bit her lip, thinking of her dark, lonely office.   
         "I think we should stick together." She insisted suddenly. "Just in case." Fraser nodded and handed the lamp to her.   
         "As you wish." He replied, lifting her into his arms once again and heading back toward her office, Diefenbaker thankfully remained out from underfoot. He deposited Thatcher on the sofa, making sure she was comfortable, then retrieving a candle he promised to return in a moment or two. Thatcher sat quietly, glad to have the light back, but nervous about being alone, even for a moment, but Fraser arrived quickly and dropped his bedroll and two pillows on the floor, by the window. He grabbed one of the pillows and offered it to her.   
         "Thank you." She accepted placing it behind her. Fraser cleared up the peanuts and cards and shook the blanket firmly before settling it over her again, then retreated to his corner of the room. Thatcher lay back on sofa, her hands cushioning her cheek and watched him as he unrolled the bag. He seemed so far away, what if she needed him in the night. Fraser turned and caught her staring at him.   
         "Sir?" he questioned.   
         "Why don't you move over here, Benton." She suggested off hand. "In case I need you for something later." Like ravishing your body you hunk of man you! She smiled at her thought and watched Fraser move the bag over closer to the sofa. He unrolled it and glanced up at her.   
         "Do you need anything right now?" he inquired politely. You! She screamed silently. I need you to climb up here next to me and make mad passionate love to me.   
         "No." she replied. "I'm fine." He nodded and lay back on the bedroll. "Won't you be cold?"   
         "No." he replied, reaching out to pull the lantern closer to him, so he could extinguish it once she fell asleep. "How is your ankle?"   
         "Throbbing," she admitted. "But it will be okay."  They lay in silence for awhile, only the occasional vibrating clap of thunder or streak of lightening breaking the monotony. She realized Fraser was waiting to put out the lamp and she gave hip permission to do so, it wouldn't be as bad knowing he was there next to her. A moment later the room was in darkness once again and she heard him settle back onto his bed.   
         "Good night, Meg." He whispered softly, making her smile.   
         "Good night." She returned quietly and closed her eyes.   
  

         Thatcher was moaning in her sleep and it had awoken Fraser. He sat up reached instinctually for her. She was thrashing about in some horrible nightmare and crying out for him. He shook her gently, then more firmly when she didn't respond. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared upwards, her eyes finally adjusting to the darkness and she was able to make out the shadow of his face.   
         "Are you al right?" he asked her gently. "You were having a nightmare." She was, funny, she couldn't even remember it now, perhaps it was her proximity to Fraser that caused her to forget, and he had that effect on her sometimes.   
         "I..Yes." she lied, though it wasn't really a lie, for he had concurred that she had been having one. "I..I need you to hold me for just a minute, Fraser." Fraser was beside her on the sofa instantly and pulling her into his embrace. She sighed and rested her cheek against his chest, hearing the strong beating of his heart. She could die happily now, she thought, as long as he would continue to hold her.   
         "Is there anything else you need?" he offered softly, his fingers soothingly entwined in her hair. Well, she thought, if that wasn't a loaded question. Silently, she wondered how compliant he would be to her needs. She was ashamed instantly, that wasn't how she wanted Fraser, it had to be his choice. Still, she was curious.   
         "What do you have to offer?" she teased and felt him tense beneath her, but then she heard his soft chuckle.   
         "Whatever I have that you may want." He told her honestly. She raised her head and stared at him, wishing she could see him better, see the expression in his eyes and understand what he was really saying.   
         "Those jeans of yours look pretty warm." She suggested coyly, considering she herself only wore a shirt.   
         "I'll give them to you if you like." He offered quietly. "Though they may be a bit big." She laughed, surprised that he actually offered to give her his jeans.   
         "Would you really give me your jeans?" she asked shocked when his hand went to the button just below is waist without hesitation. Her hand stopped his. "I was only kidding, Fraser."   
         "Understood." He acknowledged and this time she knew he had been teasing her. Her hand still covered his at the waistband of his jeans and she was tempted to allow it to travel down further, just to see what he would do.   
         "Fraser?" she began.   
         "Yes?" he questioned, finally moving his hand out from under hers, but not seeming to care that hers remained.   
         "I really love my shawl." She commented out of the blue and she could almost feel him staring at her puzzled. Where had that come from, she thought?   
         "I'm glad." He replied after a moment. He shifted and she felt him pulling away from her. "You should probably try to get some sleep." She allowed her hand to drop as he started to rise and felt him jump in surprise.   
         "I'm not tired." She informed quietly, felling him settle back against her, for lack of what else he knew to do. Her hand caressed his thigh and she could feel the muscles flexing underneath, she suspected he might be ready to run right about now, but she had started this it was up to her to finish it. Not like the last time he had been in her apartment and she feigned sleep while she tried to seduce him. This time he would understand she was awake and fully aware of what she was doing, it would be up to him to stop it.   
         "I...I...Sir?" he questioned, a trace of fear in his voice, and she suspected he might be wearing that squirrel look Francesca Vecchio had mentioned a time or two.   
         "Am I making you uncomfortable, Fraser?" she demanded, daring him to answer her. She heard him swallow, as her fingers drifted along the waistband of his jeans to free the tail of his shirt.   
         "I...I...yes." He admitted finally.   
         "Would you like me to stop then?" she asked, knowing he wouldn't lie to her.   
         "No." his reply was so quiet she had to strain to hear him, despite their proximity, and she smiled.   
         "Would you like me to continue?"   
         "I...w..whatever you wish, Meg." He returned slightly breathless, as her hand made it inside his shirt and she touched her fingers to the smooth skin of his stomach.   
         "What do you want, Ben?" she whispered, close to his ear, then touched her lips to the hollow just below it. At first he didn't answer her, and she suspected he was debating the ramifications of his what he wanted and what was his duty. Finally he answered her.   
         "You." He stated quietly. He wanted her, that was all, just her and there was no better way to say it. She leaned forward so she was laying across his lap and found his lips. His sudden intake of breath revealed that he hadn't expected the kiss, perhaps he thought she would reprimand him or even slap him for his admission, but soon he opened his mouth to her and kissed her back. His arms encircled her, pulling her closer to him and she sighed contented. It was the sweetest, gentlest kiss she had ever received and she basked in the warmth he offered her. Her fingers found their way up to bury themselves in his thick dark hair, as she eagerly invited his tongue to taste hers.   
         The kiss became more passionate and soon they were both breathless. She pulled away for a moment, the need for air becoming greater than the feel of his lips on hers, if only for a moment.   
         "Meg, I..." he started and she could hear the confusion in his voice. All this time she had been giving him mixed signals and she wasn't surprised that he was suddenly wary again. She put a finger to his lips and kissed his cheek.   
         "Light the lamp." She requested huskily. She wanted to see him, drown in his eyes and explore every inch of him with her complete vision. He moved from her, shakily she noticed, and knelt to light the lamp. The moment the soft glow filled the room, and she saw him kneeling on his bedroll with his shirt half un-tucked and his hair mussed from her hands, she instinctually dropped down beside him, careful of her ankle. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, snuggling into the warmth of his back and felt the deep slowing breaths she suspected was his self-calming technique. She released him long enough so that he could turn around and sit more comfortably on the bedroll, then she joined him. God he was beautiful, but she knew it wasn't just his looks that attracted her to him, though, it was the kind of person he was, so innocent and trusting and kind.   
           "What...what now?" he asked her, his arms resting on his raised knees passively. She smiled.   
         "What would you like to do?" she asked him. When he didn't reply she spied the deck of cards on her desk. She indicated them and he quickly retrieved the deck. "We could play some more poker." She suggested, again seeing the confusion in his eyes.   
         "Er..okay." he agreed quietly. "If that's what that's what you wish." He rose to retrieve the peanuts, but she called him back.   
         "We'll play for different stakes this time." She informed, as he settled back beside her.   
         "Air?' he inquired and she shook her head. "We can't play for money." He insisted morally.   
         "Have you ever heard of strip poker, Fraser?" she questioned calmly dealing out the cards. He had heard Ray mention it, but was unsure of the rules.   
         "I don't believe I understand it very well." He commented. Thatcher smiled.   
         "It's really very simple." She told him. "We play for articles of clothing. When I win a hand, you have to remove something you are wearing. When you win I remove something."   
         "Won't you get cold?' he asked her politely and she grinned.   
         "Only if I loose Constable." She remarked watching his face flush. "Are you up to it?"   
         "I...I don't think we should be playing something like that." He declined, his high sense of duty clicking in. "You're my superior officer and I..."   
         "Not for tonight I'm not." She returned frowning, irked that he had mentioned it, but then she was the one who was constantly reminding him of the fact. "Now, shall we play or not?" Fraser swallowed his doubts and nodded. She smiled and dealt the cards, praying she had a good hand, considering she was only wearing the one shirt. She knew she was playing with fire, and she only had to loose one maybe two hands before she would be completely naked, but she was secretly counting on Fraser's high sense of chivalry to save her, he would most likely let her win every hand, as he had earlier.   
         Sure enough she won the first three hands and Fraser removed his shirt, shoes and socks, but now it was tenser. The score was more or less even now, with them having only two articles of clothing each, and she wondered if his chivalry would extend to the last, but when she lost the following hand she knew the jig was up. He had allowed them to become even, to be fair, but now it was real and he would play to the best of his ability the remaining hand. She reached up under the long shirt and pulled off her panties, since the shirt more than covered her, as Fraser looked down at the cards he as shuffling. She tossed them toward his pile of clothes and waited anxiously to be dealt the next hand. Technically, she was sure he wore boxers under his jeans, so he still had two pieces of clothing left, but he promised they would both go, should he lose this hand. He needn't have worried, Thatcher wound up with only a pair against Fraser's full house. She dropped the cards and cast him a speculative gaze, well she had started it, time to finish. She was a Mountie after all and she would have to keep her word. Her fingers moved to the buttons of the shirt, but before she had more than two undone, Fraser had moved quickly across their playing field and had stopped her hands with his own.   
         "Don't." he whispered. "I..I don't want you to..to be uncomfortable." She smiled, secretly glad that the gentleman inside him won out over all else. She threaded her fingers through his and pulled them to the front of her shirt.   
         "Then you do it." She encouraged softly. "It's you're shirt and you did win." He shook his head. "Don't you want to, Ben?" He lowered his eyes. More than anything, he thought silently, his restraint was already surpassing its normal limit, but he afraid, what if she turned him away again? If they made love he couldn't handle her treating him like just another subordinate.   
         "I...I..." he couldn't tell her, couldn't voice the words that formed in his mind.   
         "It will change things." She stated quietly, as though guessing his dilemma. "We wouldn't be just a superior and her subordinate, except while on duty of course." Fraser nodded. "But off duty we'd be...more." He chanced a glance at her and she saw the hope laced with fear in his eyes. "I don't want you to do this because you feel you have to, but because you want it as much as I do." Fraser watched her quietly for a moment and for a second she thought he decided to take the out she offered him, but then he was leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers.   
         "I want to be with you, Meg." He whispered against her mouth and she felt a surge of happiness chorus through her. She accepted his lips eagerly, delighted in the feel of him against her. "It's all I've ever wanted from the moment we met and you threatened to fire me." She smiled and allowed him to push her back onto the bedroll, as he stretched out beside her. "I've dreamed of it since that moment on the train." He kissed her throat, her temple, her cheeks, nose and eyelids. She sighed in contentment at his words, how she had longed to hear those words.   
         "Make love to me, Ben." She urged pressing against him and he did, slowly and deliberately, so that she was no longer even aware of the storm outside, just the one raging between them. "I love you, Ben." She whispered as they surged toward a climatic reunion of desire. "OH Benton!"   
  

         Thatcher awoke with a start, almost falling off the small sofa she rested upon. She glanced around disorientated, her eyes adjusting to the semi darkness as dawn crept through the curtains of her office window. She glanced down at the sleeping man next to the sofa, he was curled on his side, his face to her, his arms were folded around him and it didn't look especially comfortable to Thatcher, but the Mountie was sound asleep. Diefenbaker was curled at his feet, snoring gently. She carefully pulled the cover back and slid her feet to the floor. Her ankle felt a little better this morning, and she found she could put a little weight on it. She slid from the sofa and stepped over Fraser, limping slowly to the bathroom, where she changed into her now dry clothes. She folded his shirt and returned to her office, placing it on the sofa neatly. She pulled the blanket she had used, from the sofa and gently draped it over him, careful not to cover Diefenbaker, who glanced up at her, yawned, then snuggled back down against Fraser.   
         "Next time, Fraser." She whispered moving toward the door with her purse and coat. "Next time it won't be just a dream." She pulled the door closed to give him more privacy, though she doubted if Turnbull would dare enter her office anyway, when he did arrive for his shift. She called a cab,. Not chancing her driving with her bad ankle then stepped outside the Consulate to wait for it. The air was crisp and cool and still held the scent of rain. A rainbow had sprouted to the north and the sun was already starting to dry things up, a new day had begun. A moment later she stepped into a cab, humming somewhere over the rainbow cheerfully. 

         Thatcher charged into Fraser's office a week later and quickly closed the door, leaning up against it, as Fraser stood to greet her in surprise.   
         "Sir? Can I..."   
         "Hide me, Constable." She demanded swiftly moving further into the room.   
         "Sir?" he asked her puzzled. She gave him a panicked glance and immediately starting searching for a place to conceal herself, while he watched her.   
         "Remember that fellow who was making advances toward me, before?" She asked him as she looked, under his small cot. Fraser paused then nodded.   
         "Henri Clouiter?"   
         "Yes, " Confirmed Thatcher quickly. "Well, he's back, despite my brush off before and I haven't the time or patience to deal with him."   
         "Ah, understood." Replied Fraser as she moved toward the closet, just as a knock sounded at his door. She stared at him, again in panic, and he quickly caught her hand. "Under the desk." He suggested and moved his chair back for her to climb into the small space, then settled himself behind the desk to cover her.   
         "Yes.' He called and the larger French Canadian officer entered.   
         "Constable Fraser." He greeted narrowly. "Please, sit down." Fraser hesitated, knowing there was very little room under his desk as it was, with Thatcher's body pressed tightly under it, he doubted he would be able to get his legs inside as well. Clouiter caught his hesitation. "Is something wrong Constable?" Fraser opened his mouth but felt a pull on his inside trouser leg from Thatcher. He shook his head and sat, the man taking the only other chair in front of him.   
         "H..How may I help you?" offered the Mountie, trying not to think of his superior officer who, in an attempt to help him arrange his legs under the desk enough to sit properly, now knelt between them, her head between his thighs.   
         "I was looking for Inspector Thatcher." He told Fraser. "Do you know where I might find her?"   
         "I..I believe she is under..." he felt a pinch on his thigh and sat up a little straighter. He wasn't going to reveal her, for heaven's sakes, he thought. "She's under the weather at the moment." he finished, not for the first time wishing he were a better liar.   
         "Is she at home? Perhaps I should pay her a visit?" A panicked shake of Thatcher's head caught Fraser in the groin and he immediately slipped a hand under the desk to calm her, and prevent her from doing anymore damage to his already slipping control.   
         "I believe she is staying with a friend." He informed.   
         "Where?"   
         "Er...I'm afraid I can't reveal that information, but I can assure you she'll be fine."   
         "Well, I'd like to send her some flowers." Clouiter determined. "Surely you can give me her address or even a phone number?"   
         "She is..." Think Fraser think. "Allergic to flowers." He lied. "They make her sneeze terribly and er...her friends are in the...er.. witness protection program so..ah..I can't possibly reveal their location."   
         "You're making that up again, aren't you."   
         "Yes sir."   
         "You do know where she is, don't you constable?"   
         "Yes sir." Fraser bowed his head, he was not a good liar. "Inspector Thatcher is under..." Thatcher did the only thing she could in her difficult position, she nipped Fraser's thigh and felt him jump, he grimaced as his knee collided with the solid would above his leg and his voice was slightly higher when he continued. "Under cover for an assignment with the Chicago police, sir."   
         "For what type of assignment?"   
         "I am not at liberty to say, Sir." Clouiter harumphed and stood.   
         "Tell her I dropped by then, when she returns."   
         "Yes, sir." Agreed Fraser, though he couldn't stand in the current position Thatcher was against him. The man nodded and left, Fraser released a sigh of relief.   
         "You were going to rat me out." She accused from underneath the desk.   
         "I was not!" protested Fraser as he started to move and let her out only to have Turnbull knock on his door and enter. "What is it, Turnbull?" he demanded, as Thatcher returned to her position.   
         "I just wanted to inform you, Sir that the decorations for the ball have arrived and they are bringing them in now.   
         "Fine Turnbull," sighed Fraser. "Carry on." Turnbull nodded and went out, closing the door behind him.   
         "I heard you!" continued Thatcher as Fraser started too scoot back again. "You were going to tell him I was under the desk."   
         "I'm not a good liar, Sir." He insisted as yet another knock sounded and again they returned to their positions. This was getting ridiculous. "Yes?"   
         "Just me again, Sir." Informed Turnbull with a smile. "I was wondering of you would be eating out for lunch today or ordering in, as the sandwich trolley is here."   
         "No, I'm fine, thank you, Turnbull." Assured Fraser trying not to show his frustration. "You are dismissed." Turnbull nodded and turned to leave as Thatcher released a small giggle at their predicament.   
         "Sir?" Turnbull asked turning back. Fraser waved him off and slipped a hand down to cover Thatcher's mouth.   
         "Nothing. You may go." Fraser waited until the door had closed for a full minute, before he realized his hand was still covering his superior's mouth. Her tongue had darted out against his palm to remind him and he snatched it away.   
         "Is it safe?" she chuckled as he moved the chair back carefully.   
         "I believe so." He returned with a nervous smile as he helped her to her feet.   
         "Remind me to get you a bigger desk Constable." She teased smoothing her wrinkled suit.   
         "It's usually more than accommodating, Sir." He reminded, when he didn't have women hiding under it that is. He realized that he still held one of her hands and was rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of her fingers.   
         "Yes, well...thank you for your assistance, Fraser." She managed as they locked gazes. "I..it was an experience."   
         "Yes, Sir." He agreed quietly, they were so close, was he going to kiss her? Suddenly the phone rang and they both jumped guiltily as Fraser quickly snatched it up.   
        "Constable Fraser speaking, how may I help you?" His gaze brightened and a smile formed on his lips.  "Vivian! Hello how are you?" He moved closer, so that they could both hear the woman speak. "Yes she's right here."   
         "I'm coming to Chicago, my darlings." She declared as Thatcher and Fraser pressed their heads closer to the earpiece. "Robin and I will be flying in next week."   
         "That's wonderful Vivian." Smiled Thatcher, trying not to think of how close Fraser was, how wonderful he smelled. "We can't wait to see you."  It had been well over four months since they had seen Robin, longer since Vivian visited. There was a light pause on the other end.   
         "I'm a little different I'm afraid." She warned quietly. "I need to tell you something and I'm afraid I must do it over the phone to prepare you."   
         "Prepare us for what, Vivian?" inquired Fraser curious.   
         "I'm dying my dears." She stated quietly. "And I am bringing Robin to stay with you Margaret. Will you take care of my daughter for me?" Fraser caught Thatcher's arm with his free hand, as she started to sway. "Meg, are you there?"   
         "Y..yes." swallowed Thatcher. "I'm here Vivian. I..I don't understand."   
         "I'll explain it all in detail when I see you, but I must know if you will take custody of Robin. I left the decision up to her and it was between you and my husband's sister, who is really the only other family we have, Robin chose you."   
         "But I...I can't..I mean I'm not a Mother Vivian..." stammered Thatcher, willing herself not to cry.   
         "Don't worry dear, Robin is so smart she'll practically raise herself and you'll have Benton there to help you and Ray of course. I'm sure he'll be a wonderful uncle figure for her."   
     "Vivian..I don't know..."   
     "I know it's short notice, Meggie, but I have to decided now. If you don't want her I shall give custody to Samantha, they live in Europe."   
         "Europe!" Fraser remarked surprised, before he could stop himself as he exchanged a glance with Thatcher; they might never see the girl again. Thatcher closed her eyes for a moment and felt Fraser's hand grip hers reassuringly.   
     "We...we'll..I mean yes, I'll take her." She decided.   
      "Wonderful!" cried Vivian relieved. "I'll call you tomorrow to let you know the details of our flight. I must go I have a treatment scheduled."   
         "Vivian!" Thatcher cried desperately.   
         "Yes, Meggie?"   
         "W...what are you dying of?"   
         "Pancreatic Cancer." Came the soft-spoken reply. "we'll talk more later, darlings. Take care of her Benton. Robin and I will see you both soon."   
         "Yes, see you soon, Vivian." Returned Fraser for them both as Vivian hung up. Thatcher was pale and gasping for breath as Fraser lowered her carefully onto his cot.   
         "Oh God!" she cried. "What am I going to do with an eight year old girl?"   
         "Nine." Corrected Fraser, quietly as he knelt beside her and checked her for shock symptoms. "She had a birthday last month." Thatcher whimpered and Fraser pulled his blanket over her. "Rest here, Meg." He instructed softly. "I'll take care of things for the rest of the day then I'll come back and take you home." Thatcher could only nod, she was still in shock. Fraser left his office and closed the door behind him, giving strict instructions to Turnbull that no one was to go inside but him, as Ray Kowalski walked up to him; having just dropped by from shift.   
         "Hey Frase." He greeted, then noticed the grim look on his partner's face. "What's up, Buddy?" Fraser told him and if he didn't know Ray better, he would think the blond was very close to fainting himself. He had turned deathly pale and started shaking all over.   
         "It's not true." He denied hotly, backing up as though warding off some evil force. "Wh...how...it can't be true!" Fraser was also very saddened to hear the news, but he was surprised that the detective was taking it so badly, almost as badly as Thatcher was.   
         "I'm afraid it is, Ray." He stated quietly.   
         "I...I...I'll see you later Fraser." Ray suddenly said. "I've got stuff to do." Ray was gone before Fraser could stop him. He understood the man's grief, he just couldn't get over the depth of it. He and Vivian had seemed to get along well enough when she was here and of course Ray adored Robin. Perhaps that was it, he was envisioning the horror this would be for Robin. Poor Ray, sometimes he was almost to sensitive.   
  

         Fraser and Thatcher waited by gate seven for the flight from New York to disembark. Thatcher appeared calm on the outside, but she was fidgeting constantly and Fraser could only guess at her mental state. Finally the doors opened and people began to walk out. Just a few gentleman came through first, then they saw Robin, once again in a pretty dress and her Mountie Stetson, she was pushing her mother's wheel chair up the walkway. Thatcher swallowed her startled cry at the transformed Vivian, who had obviously lost all her beautiful hair and now wore a colorful turban to hide her plain scalp. She was so pale and thin, Thatcher was afraid to hug her, but the woman's grip was surprisingly firm as the Inspector knelt to wrap her arms around her.   
         "Oh, Viv." She whispered, able to feel the very bones that the thin layer of clothing barely hid.   
         "Don't you cry, Meggie." Vivian whispered almost viciously. "Don't you dare." Thatcher composed herself and straightened, her eyes clear and a small smile on her lips as Robin walked around the chair to hug her, then Fraser enthusiastically, although the girl looked almost as worn out as her Mother did. Fraser bent to kiss Vivian hello and she smiled up at him, in his blue jeans and checkered red shirt. "I swear you get better looking every time I see you, Ben." Fraser smiled and took his place behind her chair.   
         "How was you're flight?" he asked politely.   
         "Terrible!" laughed Vivian winking at Robin who returned her Mother's smile as they walked to the baggage claim. "They had the worst in-flight movie, didn't they darling?"   
         "It was dumb and dumber." Sighed Robin disgusted. "Really stupid." Thatcher smiled.   
         "Sounds like a winner alright." She agreed as they stopped by the luggage belt and waited for the conveyor to start.   
         "Didn't Ray come with you?" she asked curious. Fraser shook his head, not willing to  explain how Kowalski had adamantly refused to be here, claiming he had a case to work. Fraser had gotten angry, but he felt Ray needed to work out whatever he was going through on his own, and that he'd come around sooner or later.   
         "He had to work." Fraser finally told her and she shook her head with a laugh.   
         "I'll have to give him hell about that, then." She smiled as the belt finally started and pieces of luggage began to revolve before them. "We just have the two cases, Benton." She indicated the two blue suitcases that were coming their way. "We're having the rest shipped."   
         "And I have Mama's special stuff here in my bag." Declared Robin holding up her knapsack as Fraser snagged the two cases and Thatcher became Vivian's chauffeur. They stepped out into the Chicago mid-day sun and Fraser left them to go and bring the car around.   
  

         "I want mine extra extra well done!" declared Robin, peering over Fraser's shoulder as he turned the steaks on the grill outside on the terrace. She wore jeans and a blue T-shirt like him, and she was running back between him and her Mother and Margaret in the kitchen.   
         "As you wish, madam." He assured gravely, bowing slightly, "One rare and slightly bloody steak coming up."   
         "Well done!" squealed Robin in delight. "Ewew don't want any pink that's yucky!" Fraser watched as she skipped off the terrace and he could hear her telling her Vivian that Fraser was trying to poison her by making not cooking her steak all the way through.   
         "That won't poison you darling." Laughed Vivian, as she shredded the lettuce for the salad. She was looking better today, even had the strength to get up and walk around on her own, choosing to leave her wheel chair behind, but she was still entirely to thin and pale. "Lots of people eat their meat rare." Robin made another disgusted noise and Fraser chuckled as the doorbell chimed. He quickly pulled the cover over the steaks and set the fork aside then stepped inside to answer it.   
         "Ray!" he exclaimed in delight at seeing his partner and friend, who had been avoiding Thatcher's and Vivian for the past week and a half. Ray offered him a wry grin, leaning against the doorjamb but not actually stepping inside.   
         "Hey Fraser." He greeted. "I..I just needed to get my phone from you, you had it last night when we were on that steak out and I forgot to get it back." Fraser nodded and swung the door wide so the detective could be seen from the inner rooms of the apartment.   
         "Come in and I'll get it for you." He offered, feeling only slightly guilty for lifting his partner's cell phone and then intentionally forgetting to return it so he would come looking for it   
         "Ah, no, Frase." he protested quietly, stepping. Further into the hall instead of inside the apartment, as Fraser glanced over to where Ray's phone lay inside his leather jacket that was draped over the armchair in the living room. "I..I gotta be goin'. Things to do, y'know."   
         "Certainly, Ray." Fraser agreed easily, then turning he called out toward the kitchen. "Robin! Could you bring me my coat please?" The little girl ran in and swept the coat up, the caught a glance of Ray who was glaring at Fraser, knowing he had done that on purpose. She dropped the coat and threw herself into his arms.   
         "Ray!" she squealed as he barely caught her. "You came! I'm glad you're here, come and see Mama." She was pulling at the blonde's hand, but Ray stood his ground.   
         "N..not today, Robin." He refused shooting Fraser a warning glance. "Can I get my phone, Fraser? Please?" Fraser could sense the turmoil Ray was in, though he didn't understand why, yet he wasn't prepared to get him off the hook. However, before he could make a response Vivian appeared just behind Fraser, she wore a soft aqua slack suit, that flowed about her, giving the illusion of a well-developed figure, and a matching turban.   
         "You better get your skinny ass in here, Detective." She warned with a smile that was just for him. "How dare you say no to my daughter." Ray stared at her and blinked at the moisture that suddenly rose in his eyes, she was still beautiful he thought oddly, if not a little pale. Her eyes were challenging him to refuse her and he knew he could not, so he stepped inside and Fraser closed the door.   
         "Hi, Viv." He greeted quietly as she folded he arms around him and he felt the tears prick at his eyes once again at how thin she felt in his arms, but they were gone when he stepped back to look at her. "How're ya doin'?" She smiled and looped her arms through his.   
         "Much better now that a certain scatterbrained cop has stopped avoiding me." She declared amused as she pulled him toward the kitchen and called out to Fraser. "Put another steak on, Chef Fraser."   
         "Already have." Remarked Fraser easily, receiving a narrowed look from his partner, as Robin ran back to retrieve the jacket she had dropped. Fraser pulled Ray's phone out of the pocket and handed it to him innocently. The blond grinned at him and shook his head as he placed the phone inside his own jacket, then removed the coat itself and hung it on the chair. He wore one of his favored collarless gray shirts under his shoulder holster and Vivian thought he looked decidedly masculine in what she considered his cop armor.   
         "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me, sugah?" she teased in her best May West voice as she leaned suggestively against him. Ray blushed and laughed at the same time.   
         "I wasn't dressed fer company." He commented, pulling his weapon out and shrugging out of the harness setting it all atop the refrigerator, well out of Robin's curious hands, though he doubted the girl would ever touch the gun, she knew better than to play with a dangerous weapon. Thatcher offered him a surprisingly pleasant smile.   
         "How are you, Ray?" she inquired politely. Ray looked at her, slightly take aback, he was always suspicious when she was nice to him.   
         "I'm good." He returned. "How's business in Canada?" She smiled.   
         "Fine thank you." She replied as she pulled open the oven door and checked on the potatoes baking inside. Fraser had told her he was hoping Ray would drop by so she had also put on extra for him.   
         "Steaks are ready." Announced Fraser bringing the platter ladled with juicy tender meat inside and setting it on the table. Thatcher pulled out the potatoes, Vivian grabbed the salad, and Robin the corn on the cob as Ray retrieved drinks for all of them.   
         After the meal, Robin wanted ice cream, so Thatcher and Fraser decided to make a run to get some, taking the girl with then, leaving Ray and Vivian alone. They stood on the terrace making small talk, Ray was nursing a cup of coffee. Finally Vivian had decided she'd had enough of the polite conversation.   
         "Why didn't you come and see me sooner, Ray?' she demanded, watching the breeze catch his blond hair and make it dance about in a playful wind dance.   
         "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" he accused staring out over the darkening sky. Vivian glanced down at the traffic below.   
         "I tried," she defended. "You wouldn't return my calls."   
         "I mean before, Vivian." Demanded Ray angrily. "Why didn't you tell me before, you could have y'know. I wouldn't have said anything." Vivian sighed, she had known he was going to be upset, but she had really had no other alternative.   
         "I..I didn't know how to tell you, Ray." She stated quietly. "I kept putting it off, hoping, well, hoping I'd find a miracle cure I suppose." She leaned against the railing and folded her  fingers together. "All of a sudden he was so real and I had so little time to get everything done." She turned to him, her features softening. "I was going to call and tell you the day I called Meggie, but...I wasn't feeling up to it after my treatment and then it was a couple of days later before I got up the strength to call. By then you knew, only I didn't know you knew I just assumed you were avoiding me." Ray was silent, he refused to meet her gaze and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. Please don't stay mad at me. You're my dearest friend I..I need you to support me now, Ray."   
         "I just wish you had told me." He whispered brokenly, his head dropping in defeat. "When Fraser...I thought I was gonna die right there on the spot. It was such a shock. All this time..all the talks and you never told me, never even mentioned it." She pulled him into her embrace.   
         "I'm so sorry, Ray." She offered gently. "Please forgive me. Be my friend again, my confidant. I need you, luv." Ray pulled back enough to lock his gaze with hers.   
         "You're so beautiful baby." He whispered cradling her face in his hands and touching his lips softly to hers in a tender kiss. She wound her arms around his neck and sighed against him as he deepened the kiss. Finally they parted with  a quick hug to seal their friendship.   
         "You'll be here for me?" she asked. "For Robin?" He nodded and caressed her cheek.   
         "Always." He assured giving her another slow kiss to seal the bargain.   
         "We're back!" cried Robin and the two adults shot apart guiltily. "We got chocolate chip and Napoleon!"   
         "Neapolitan." Corrected Thatcher laughing as they set their bags on the counter and Ray and Vivian came inside. Fraser noticed the difference between them immediately, the tension had gone and they were friends again. He nodded, glad his plan had worked.   
    
  

         Fraser watched as the priest said a final prayer over the lowering casket, then offered his own quite prayer for Vivian, wherever she might now be. Robin had a firm hold on his hand and she looked so small and forlorn in her simple black dress and paten leather shoes. The ever present Stetson, the girl wore, was absent, replaced by a simple black bow in her hair. Thatcher, who stood on his other side sniffed a few times and he offered her his handkerchief, but she shook her head, fixing her gaze determinedly. She would not cry in front of Robin. Fraser glanced at the few others who were in attendance, mostly their close friends from the department, the Vecchio's and a few other friends of Vivian's who had flown in for the funeral.   
        Ray Kowaski stood between the Vecchio's and Fraser, oddly set apart from everyone else that surrounded him in his dark jeans, pressed blue shirt and tan raglan. Vivian had insisted he attend her funeral, when the time came, in what she had always seen him wear, his casuals, and apparently Ray had respected her wishes. Although he had received a few surprised looks from the people dressed more formally, he offered no explanation and ignored their remarks. He wasn't here for them and didn't give a damn what any of them thought.   
        Fraser of course, wore his red dress uniform, standing out brightly against the dark colors around him, while Thatcher chose a tasteful black skirt suit. She decided against  wearing her own red serge, because she was attending the funeral of a friend not a Canadian delegate. Fraser wore his simply as a sign of respect for Vivian, that was the sort of man Fraser was, feeling that looking his best would invoke a similar sense of pride in the people he wore it for. The last funeral he had worn it to was for Lewis Gardino, whom he also held in high esteem and Ray knew that if the time came that he died before Fraser, his friend would wear that wonderful uniform for him as well.   
         Fraser watched as Ray reached up discretely to remove the trademark shades that hid his expressive eyes and wiped the tears from each corner. Ray was not a man to care who saw him laugh or cry, he did what he felt like doing and Fraser had always admired how emotionally free the detective seemed at times. He often wished he could let his own feelings show that easily, but that wasn't something that came to him easily.   
        Finally the service was over and they started to move toward the vehicles parked a few feet away, after many offered their condolences. Thatcher had decided to use the Consulate's limo, so she, Fraser, Turnbull and Robin could all easily ride together. Ray had come in the GTO alone and although they had offered for him to ride with them, Fraser sensed the detective needed the extra time alone to deal with his own grief. Robin pulled her hand away from Fraser's and ran toward Kowalski, who was already next to his car.   
         "I wanna go with you." she insisted in a small voice and Ray knelt to take her in his arms.   
         "You need to ride with Fraser, kiddo." He refused gently. "They'll take you back to your Auntie Meg's and get you fed and stuff." Robin shook her head as a lone tear slipped down her cheek and her tiny arms hugged him harder.   
         "I wanna go with you!" she cried, as the other's approached. Ray glanced up at Fraser, his expression unreadable as Thatcher stepped forward.   
         "Detective Vecchio has to return to work, Robin." She explained putting a hand on the child's arm, only to have Robin flinch away from her and hold tighter to Ray. Fraser caught the hurt look that passed over the Inspector's face and he caressed his right brow. He knelt next to his partner and Robin.   
         "Ray will come by to see you after he gets off work, Robin." He promised, glancing at the flustered detective, who nodded his ascent.   
         "Sure." He agreed. "I'll even bring a pizza, how's that?" Robin released her grip on him just enough that she could look him in the eye.   
         "I don't want you to go away." She sobbed and Ray blinked back his own tears.   
         "I'm not goin' anywhere, sweetheart." He pledged, wiping a gentle finger across her pale cheek to catch the tear that was bent on escaping toward her mouth. "I promise to come by after work and I have never broken a promise yet, have I?" Robin shook her head slowly.   
         "Will you read to me?" she asked him hesitantly and he nodded. "Will you watch Lion King with me?" Ray paused, he didn't know if he Lion King would be the best movie to watch considering the circumstances, but he agreed anyway.   
        "Anything you want." He assured softly. "I'll fly you to the moon if you ask me to." That coaxed a tiny smile from her.   
        "That's just silly, Ray." She giggled. "We can't reach the moon without a space ship." Damn this kid was smart.   
        "Then I'll build you a spaceship," he insisted rising to his feet and holding her high in his arms. "And we'll fly up there and have a picnic with crackers and green cheese." Robin giggled again and he brought her close to hug her once more, then set her on her feet. "But you have to go home and I have to go to work for now, okay?"   
        "Okay, Ray." She conceded reluctantly and she looked up at him with shining eyes, so bright, Ray was tempted to put his shades back on. No one had ever looked at him with such love and utter devotion as this one little girl did and he wondered what he had ever done to deserve such a precious gift. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had risen within and seemed to cut off his ability to speak. Instead he waved and climbed into the car as Robin took Fraser's hand and headed back toward the limo.   
  

         "He's not coming!" declared Robin, standing on the balcony of Thatcher's apartment and staring down into the darkening street. She had waited forever for Ray to arrive and he still was not here. He went away and wasn't coming back, just like her Mama.   
         "It's only been an hour since he got off work, Robin." Stated Fraser stepping out onto the balcony. "With traffic and he did say he would bring pizza, he's probably just held up."   
         "He said he'd be here!" she insisted. "Where is he?" Before Fraser could answer, the phone rang and he heard Thatcher snatch it up on the first ring; he suspected she was as anxious for the detective to make an appearance as much as Robin. The young girl had bounced back and forth from anger to sorrow to glee so much in the last few hours it made both their heads spin. He understood she probably wasn't sure what to feel right now, loosing a parent can be hard on a child. Thatcher approached him and whispered quietly in his ear.   
         "That was Leftenant Welsh." She informed, glancing at Robin who was once again peering down into the street. "He said Ray mentioned he would be coming by and that he had left his cell phone on Welsh's desk." Fraser frowned, Ray rarely misplaced his phone, but then the day had been a stressful one on all of them.   
         "I'm sure Ray can get it tomorrow." Replied Fraser calmly, but something in Thatcher's expression caused him concern. "What else did he say?"   
         "He said Ray had left early to run some errands."   
         "How early?"   
         "He left around four." Stated Thatcher, biting her bottom lip as Fraser glanced at his watch. It was now almost six thirty, it took fifteen minutes to get to Thatcher's apartment from the precinct, maximum of  twenty to order and receive a pizza, so where was the detective? Fraser moved inside, leaving Thatcher to watch Robin, and dialed Ray's  home number, but Kowalski's machine picked up. He put the phone down and grabbed up his hat.   
         "Where are you going?" asked Thatcher worried.   
         "Something is wrong." He told her moving toward the door. "I've got to go find Ray. Tell Robin I ran to the store or something, I'll be back as soon as I can." Thatcher threw him her car keys and nodded, then closed the door behind him, sliding the bolt in place.   
  

         Fraser knew the main routes Ray would take to get to the apartment, so he drove over those area's first. When that turned up nothing, he drove to Ray's apartment and used the spare key that his partner had given him, to enter the apartment and take a quick look around. The first thing he noticed was Ray's gun and holster on the kitchen table.   
         "Ray?" he called moving further into the apartment.   
         "Fraser!" came a relieved, high-pitched voice from the bedroom. Fraser hurried toward the voice and was appalled to find the slim detective  practically buried under a large oak cabinet that held his books and assorted collector's items.   
         "Ray!" exclaimed Fraser moving quickly to try and move the heavy cabinet off his friend, but it was too large and he wasn't strong enough alone.   
         "L..let's try it together." Managed Ray, trying to brace his hands under him to give him leverage against the cabinet that lay across his back. "On three." Ray was already out of breath and Fraser worried he may have seriously been injured. "One, two, t..three!" Ray pushed upward with his back while Fraser pulled with his upper arms against the weight of the cabinet, they moved it perhaps an inch, before the effort forced them to give it up. Ray was breathing hard and sweat had broken out across his forehead.   
         "I need to find a fulcrum." Stated Fraser looking quickly around Ray's apartment. He came back a moment later, with a long metal rod.   
         "Hey!" wheezed Ray indignantly. "Is that my bike?" Fraser nodded, he had removed the cross bar from Kowalski's bicycle that hung on the wall in the living room.   
         "It's all I could find." Reasoned Fraser as he fit it appropriately under one edge of the cabinet.   
         "You'd better put it back together." His partner warned as Fraser levered the cabinet upward, even with the fulcrum it was difficult and slow going.   
         "Can you pull yourself out, Ray?" he asked, his own strength needed for the leverage of the cabinet itself.   
         "I..I think so." Offered Ray as Fraser pushed the cabinet higher. The moment Ray felt the pressure released from his back he started to pull himself forward and out from under his wooden prison, but the cabinet slipped off the lever and slammed against the back of his legs. He screamed and Fraser worked fervently to get the cabinet off of him again. Finally Ray had managed to pull himself out and Fraser let the monstrosity crash back to the floor. He threw the rod aside and hurried to his friend, who was lying so still Fraser was almost afraid he was dead.   
         "Ray?" he urged, placing two fingers at the base of his throat and sighing with relief as he felt a strong rhythmic pulse, good he had only passed out. He reached for the phone by the bed and dialed 911, he had to get Ray to a hospital, then dialed Thatcher's and informed her of the situation.   
  

         Ray awoke to all white and feared he'd been dropped into Fraser's home tundra, but then as his eyes focused he saw that he was actually in a hospital room. He blinked a few times, trying to figure out how he had gotten there, the last thing he remembered was that damned wall unit falling on him, and Fraser, at some time Fraser had been there as well. The memory of weight of the bulking cabinet on him caused him to try and flex his legs, but he realized it didn't work. He tried again, but could not tell of his legs had moved so much as an inch, he could not even feel his toes. He tried to sit up and found the rest of his body was not responding much either. Fear settled over him and a hysterical cry tore from his throat.   
         "Ray?" Fraser was beside him instantly and it took the detective a moment to focus on the Canadian's concerned face.   
         "Frase." He sighed with relief, Fraser would make things better he always did. "I can't move buddy. I can't feel anything, make my legs work Fraser." Fraser stared down at him and Ray detected just the barest hint of sympathy.   
         "The..the accident damaged some nerves in your back, Ray." He informed quietly. "They operated but it will take time to see if the surgery worked."   
         "What are you saying?' Ray demanded angrily. "Are you saying I'm paralyzed? I can't walk anymore?" Fraser could see the stark terror in his partner's eyes and he tried to sooth him.   
         "We don't know yet, Ray." He insisted. "The doctors..."   
         "The doctors?" demanded Ray furious, though Fraser suspected it was fear that drove his anger. "What Doctors? I wanna see them. Now! I want then to tell me to my face that I'm a cripple." Ray was getting hysterical as a nurse entered, witnessed his upset and quickly retrieved a syringe that no doubt contained a sedative. "Don't you put that shit in me!" he told her. "I just woke up damnit! Fraser!" Fraser stopped the woman's movements and shook his head.   
         "Leave us alone, please." He requested firmly.   
         "But he needs to calm down." She stated.   
         "He will." Assured the Mountie. "Just leave us, please." The woman hesitated, the nodded and left the room. Ray released a shaky sigh.   
         "What the hell is going on, Fraser?" he asked, his anger spent.   
         "Just be patient, Ray." Encouraged Fraser softly. "We'll know more in a few days."   
         "I'm scared, Frase." Admitted Ray quietly and Fraser nodded.   
         "I know." He replied. "I was scared when it happened to me." Ray perked up a little.   
         "When did it happen to you?"   
         "When Ray Vecchio shot me in the back." He informed, watching the blond detective's expression turn to one of shock.   
         "He shot you?" he declared surprised. "He really shot you?" Fraser nodded. "Damn Fraser, at least all I ever did was hit ya. I'd never think of shooting you." Fraser smiled.   
         "It was an accident, Ray." He assured, glad he had managed to get his partner's mind off his own current misery. "He didn't mean to shoot me, he was aiming for someone else that he thought had a gun, I just sort of stepped in the way."   
         "Were ya mad at him?"   
         "No, not really." Replied Fraser honestly. "I was at first, not really mad per se, just badly disillusioned by the whole situation in general." He smiled slightly. "Besides, he ended up taking a bullet in the back for me, later so we were even steven I think." Ray chuckled.   
         "Even steven?" he repeated with a smile. "How old is that?" Fraser smiled.   
         "Old enough I suppose." He replied. "Anyway, I felt sorry for myself for awhile then I got up and started going through therapy and here I am, fit as ever."   
         "I hope yer right Frase," whispered Ray concerned. "I..I don't know how I'd handle it if I..y'know." Fraser nodded.   
    
  

         "I don't want to go to bed!" Robin screamed at Meg Thatcher belligerently. "I hate this place, I hate you!" Meg took a deep calming breath. She knew the girl was still in turmoil over her Mother's death, but it had been almost a week now and Robin was getting worse by the day. Meg had faced down criminals and superior officers, she'd mediated with ambassadors and kings and commanded officers of her own, why couldn't she get one little girl to go to bed?   
         "It's time for bed, Robin." She said firmly. "You know the rules, we both have to get up early to go to the consulate, you want to see Fraser don't you?" Using the child's love for Fraser was an unfair advantage, but it was the only ace Thatcher had, since Detective Kowalski was in the hospital and Robin couldn't very well visit him. She didn't understand what she had done to make the child hate her so, but Robin was constantly belligerent and disrespectful, nothing like the adorable polite child she had been on their first visit with her.   
         "I want Fraser!" Robin insisted. "He promised he would come and see me tonight and he isn't here!"   
         "Constable Fraser may have gotten held up, Robin." She explained. "He wouldn't come by after your bed time,  you'll see him tomorrow." Thatcher braced herself for another screaming fit, just as there was a knock at the door. Robin raced to it and threw the door open, launching herself into Fraser's arms, as Thatcher wearily shook her head and sighed with relief.   
         "I knew you would come!" she crowed hugging him, as he stepped inside and closed the door before setting her on her feet again. "Auntie Meg said you wouldn't come but you promised so I knew you would." Fraser's gaze drifted over the girl's head to Meg's harried expression and he frowned, then he knelt to look at Robin intently.   
         "You go get ready for bed and I'll be in to tell you a story." He promised and watched Robin run for her bedroom excitedly, as he straightened and approached Meg, who looked like she was on the verge of tears. "Are you all right?" She nodded and turned away, Fraser sensed it was to prevent him from seeing her cry. He raised a hand and let it hover over her shoulder, he wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know if his intentions would be welcome. He dropped his hand and stepped back. "I apologize for being late."   
         "Yes, well," managed Meg coolly, though she still held her back to him. "You're here now, so maybe she'll go to bed." Fraser nodded and took another step away, sensing she wished to be alone, then turned toward Robin's room. He knocked and waited for her to call out to him, then entered as she climbed up in the large bed. He tucked the covers around her securely and reached for her small collection of stuffed animals.   
         "Who gets the pleasure of sleeping with Mistress Robin, tonight?" he inquired picking through the assortment of toys, then pulling out a large white rabbit. "How about Mr. Tingles? He looks lonely, I think he would enjoy your company." Robin readily grabbed for the bunny and hugged him to her, smiling delighted at the Mountie sitting beside her on the bed.   
         "What story will you tell me?" she urged, her eyes flashing excitedly as Fraser's eyes skimmed over her selection of books. She loved it when Fraser told her a story, he did cool sound effects and made funny faces for the characters.   
         "How about the Princess and the JellyBean?" he suggested reaching across to pull the small book from the shelf. Robin giggled.   
         "It's the Princess and the Pea, silly!" she corrected.   
         "Are you quite sure?" inquired Fraser innocently. "Doesn't she plant the bean and grow a giant weed from it to climb?"   
         "No!" laughed Robin. "That's Jack and the Beanstalk." Fraser nodded comically.   
         "Ah, you see, there was a bean involved." He accused gently and she giggled again.   
         "But there's no bean in this story."   
         "Ah, right you are." He agreed amiably. "She sits on a can of corn in a wheat field, correct?" Fraser kept a straight face, and even managed to look hurt as she laughed harder.   
         "No, silly!" she grinned. "The prince puts a pea under her mattress to see if she's a real princess."   
         "And is she a real princess?" inquired Fraser intrigued.   
         "Yes," declared Robin wisely. "Because only a real Princess can feel a pea under her mattress and then she can't sleep." Fraser tossed the book behind him.   
         "It's no sense to read it if you're going to spoil the ending for me, Robin." He sighed in mock annoyance and the girl hit him with her pillow in delighted exasperation. Fraser snatched the pillow from her and proceeded to tickle her until she was breathless and her  contagious giggles had him laughing too. Finally he stopped and straightened her covers around her, handing her Mr. Tingles, who had been tossed aside during their wrestling.   
         "I love you, Fraser." She whispered as he leaned down to give her a hug and kiss good night.   
         "I love you too, Robin." He assured softly as Robin held her companion up toward him.   
        "So does Mr. Tingles. Does he get a kiss?" Fraser dutifully kissed the rabbit and rose from the bed. "G'nite, Fraser."   
        "Good night, Robin." Fraser returned as he switched off the light and pulled the door shut. He walked quietly out into the large living area and was shocked to find Meg sniffing dejectedly on the sofa. He walked over and sat in the chair opposite, not wanting to impose anymore that she would allow.   
        "I'm s...s...sorry." She hiccuped as Fraser handed her his handkerchief so she could wipe her eyes and blow her nose. "I..I don't know what I'm doing wrong? I mean..she thinks I'm a...a m..monster."   
        "No she doesn't." he assured quickly. "She's just trying to adjust, you both are. It's going to take time for you both to get used to each other. Just remember that you are the parent and she is the child, she'll test you for a while until she feels more comfortable." Meg stared at him intently, meeting those incredible blue eyes that made her insides feel like Jell-O.   
        "Why did Vivian leave her to me, Fraser?" she whispered confused. "I'm not the mother type! I command grown men, but I can't even get one little girl to go to bed. I don't know what in the hell I'm doing!"   
        "No parent does." He acknowledged quietly. "It's a learning process." He paused and glanced at his hands. "I think Vivian knew exactly what she was doing, Meg. She knew your heart, knew how much you already loved Robin and that you would do what was best for her. You wanted children once before, remember, don't let this chance...this gift from Vivian  get away." Meg's eyes watered once again as she watched him. How did he always know what to say? Could he see inside her soul?   
        "I was right about you, Ben." She commented, watching Fraser's eyebrows rise a fraction in curiosity, waiting for her to elaborate. "You would make some child a wonderful father." Fraser blushed lightly and lowered his eyes as she added silently. And some woman a wonderful husband.   
        "Thank you kindly, Meg." He managed shyly. "May I make a suggestion?"   
        "Please do." She encouraged, willing to have whatever help possible.   
        "Perhaps you should enroll Robin in school"   
        "So soon?" questioned Meg. "But it's only been a week since her..since Vivian passed on, don't you think it's too soon?" Fraser shook his head.   
        "Vivian wanted to keep her out while she was still here so she could spend time with her, but now I think she needs the stability and adventure of going to school, it will give her less time to...dwell on the things that are bothering her." Meg couldn't help herself from reaching across and gently touching his arm,  ad such a haunted lonely look in his eyes, until he realized she was watching him and then his expression became passive again.   
        "You sound like you speak from experience." She remarked softly. "I forgot you lost your Mother when you were around Robin's age." Fraser's gaze sought hers surprised. "It's in your file, Constable." She explained his silent question. Fraser lowered his gaze and nodded. "Fraser, I don't think I can do this alone. I...." She bit her lip and felt herself squeezing his arm gently for strength. "I require your assistance in this matter and I...it isn't a Consulate duty so I can't force you to..."   
        "What would you like me to do?" he offered easily. "Whatever I can do to help you I will, if..if you'll let me." She realized then that he actually worried that she might refuse his help, she couldn't believe he was so uncertain of her feelings for him, how could he not know? Because you as much as ordered him to bury those feelings, Thatcher, you dumb broad, and now he's afraid what is allowed and what isn't. She moved her hand to his and squeezed again.   
        "I'd like your help, Fra..Ben." she agreed softly and saw his eyes light up briefly, before reverting to their usual shaded blue. Fraser nodded.   
        "P..perhaps we could decide what issues need to be addressed first and then go from there. He suggested eagerly and she nodded.   
        "That would be acceptable." She finally agreed, releasing his hand and settling back into the sofa. Fraser fought the impulse to move to her side and take her hand again. "The main problem of course seems to be  that she refuses to do anything without you or Detective Vecchio around and since your partner is in the hospital that only leaves you, Fraser."   
        "She may simply be expressing her fear of loss." Stated Fraser wisely. "She has already lost her mother and father, we are the only other constants in her life and I think she may be afraid she will loose us to if we are not within her sight. She's striving for control in a situation where she has none, we must be patient." Meg once again nodded in agreement.   
        "How do we deal with it then?"   
        "Well, enrolling her in school will help, of course." He determined. "That will give you both a break from each other and that in turn, will help with the stress level."   
        "I'll see to it first thing in the morning." She decided.   
        "There is an excellent school just a few blocks from the Consulate, so she could get dropped off there after school." Suggested Fraser, receiving an impressed glance from his superior officer as he pulled out some papers from his tunic. "I hope you will forgive me but I already spoke with the principal and some of the teachers of the school and I feel it will be quite suitable for Robin's needs and they have a remarkable curriculum and crafts program for the younger students." Fraser paused as he realized Thatcher was staring intently at him, and he suddenly suspected he might have overstepped his position and made her angry.         "Er..of course if you would like to speak with the dean yourself that would be...I mean you do not even have to take this particular school there are others..."   
        Fraser was shocked when Thatcher stood and walked over to hug him tightly, kneeling between his legs in a surprisingly intimate gesture. Fraser froze, unsure if he should return her embrace or just allow her to break the contact when she was ready, but when he felt her body tremble with quiet sobs he dropped the papers and immediately put his arms around her. One of his hands smoothed her hair while the other made comforting circles over her back, as she cried and clung to him. He didn't know why she was so upset, but he suspected it was just the stress and unresolved grief of the past week that broke the tender hearted Inspector. He knew she could be cold and uncompromising out some things, but he also knew she had a vulnerability that she fought hard to hide from outside eyes. He had seen the softer side of her, on the train, during her biological clock phase and of course in the incubator at the egg warehouse; she had even allowed him to tease her then.   
        "I...I'm sorry, she sniffed sitting back a little, and wiping her eyes with Fraser's handkerchief once again. "I..I don't know what came over me. I..I never even thought about and....you..you've already...oh Fraser." Fraser offered her a small smile, trying not to think of the compromising position she was in, or how sweet she had smelled when he held her close to him. She brushed at the wet spots on his tunic. "I got your uniform wet."   
        "It will dry." He assured calmly as he watched her with those cerulean eyes of his as though promoting her to be the next to speak.   
        "Wou...would you like to stay the night?" she asked softly, searching his face for a sign that she wasn't mistaking the chemistry that seemed to snap around them like fire sparks. "I...It's late and..you ..we could have breakfast together, t..the three of us that is and then, maybe go check out the school, together."   
        "I would like that...Meg." He admitted just as softly. "But...I'm afraid I can't." He caught only a glimpse of her disappointment, before she had her familiar stone mask in place, as she rose from where she knelt and picked up the papers he had dropped on the floor.   
        "Very well, Constable." She replied stiffly, turning away before she caught Fraser's flinch at the use of his title. "I just thought I would offer, since I know that Robin would have enjoyed it. However if you..."   
        "Meg, please..." Fraser interrupted as he stood and approached her. "I didn't mean..." She moved further away from him, her entire posture rigid and unforgiving.   
        "However," she continued coolly. "I understand that you have your own life and that you must have important things to do so I shan't keep you." She walked over and opened the door for him. "Good evening Constable." Fraser regarded her quietly for a moment and she forced herself not to look at the hurt plea in his eyes. Finally he retrieved his Stetson and strode to the door. He tipped his hat to her as he placed it on his head.   
        "Good night, Sir." He returned solemnly. He stepped out into the hall and Thatcher promptly shut the door, then leaned against it wistfully, unaware that Fraser was doing the same thing on the opposite side. Finally they both moved away, Thatcher switched off the lights and retreated to her bedroom as Fraser stepped into the elevator that would take him downstairs. Robin quietly closed her bedroom door, sealing the small crack that she had used to watch the two adults from, and hurried to her window to watch the Mountie step outside and head down the street.   
        "Golly, Mama." She sighed as she continued to stare after him. "This is turning out to be harder than we thought." Finally she pulled her Stetson off of the lampshade by her bed, set it atop Mr. Tingle's furry white head and lay him down beside her. She'd think up something else, but she had to hurry, she was running out of time.   
    
  

         Fraser pushed open the door to Ray's hospital room and issued the small figure inside, closing the door quickly behind them. He knew he was breaking hospital rules by bringing a child in, but Ray had been very depressed the last few days, for although he could now sit up and had some mobility he still could not feel his legs, and Fraser thought Robin might cheer him up. The girl had been hysterical when Ray had not shown up like he promised the night of the funeral, and although he and Thatcher had assured her Ray was alright, Robin kept demanding to see him. Fraser still remembered that terrible day, after he left Ray at the hospital, once the doctors assured his friend was out of danger.   
        Fraser had settled Robin in Thatcher's guest room, pulling the covers up over the   
 exhausted child, and allowing Diefenbaker to curl up beside her. There were still streaks left from her tears across her tiny, pale cheeks and her lower lip trembled even in sleep, from the grief she was experiencing. It had been a long and sorrow filled day, as they had laid Vivian to rest at the local cemetery. Thatcher, though prepared for her friend's death, had not expected it to come so soon and had almost broken down during the mass, though only Fraser knew this by the way she gripped his hand and literally held on to him for strength. She had not shed a tear until she was alone, worried that Robin would see her, but she had excused herself as soon as they had gotten home to her apartment and Fraser knew she locked herself into her room for a private cry. Then of course Ray had been detained and the girl was sure she had lost the detective as well.   
         Ray was sleeping soundly, his bed slightly raised to make sitting up a little easier. Fraser watched Robin climb up on the bed next to his partner and curl up against him. Ray's eyes fluttered open and was startled to find the young girl with her tiny arms wrapped around him, watching him sleep.   
         "Hi, kiddo." He greeted with a grin and she returned his smile with a bright one of her own.   
         "Are you better, Ray?" she asked hopefully as he exchanged a glance with Fraser. Ray sat up slightly and pulled her into the crook of his arm.   
         "I'm much better now that you're here." He told her solemnly and she sighed with contentment.   
         "I missed you, you never came to see me like you promised. I thought you went away like Mama." Ray swallowed.   
         "No, honey." He said quietly. "I'm still here and I'm sorry I broke my promise to you."   
         "I forgive you." She replied simply.   
         "How are you feeling, Ray?" Fraser asked politely.   
         "Not much, Frase." He tossed sarcastically and Fraser felt the twinge of guilt stirring inside him again. If that cabinet hadn't slipped off the bar and slammed against the detective he might not have been so badly injured, and though the Doctor's assured him it was the pressure on his back that had caused the injury, Fraser couldn't help but feel it was partially his fault.   
         "I'm sorry to hear that, Ray." He murmured. "C..Can I get you anything from the cafeteria? Coffee, candy?"   
         "No, I'm good," returned Ray.  "But thanks."   
         "Robin?"   
         "I'd like a donut and milk please." She asked him and he nodded.   
         "I'll be back in a moment." Stated Fraser turning to leave. Robin waited until the door closed again before she spoke to Ray.   
         "Fraser's sad." She told him and he raised an eyebrow.   
         "He is?" She nodded.   
         "He doesn't laugh anymore and I think Auntie Meg is mad at him."   
         "Why do you think that?" inquired Ray intrigued.   
         "She yelled at him yesterday for forgetting to have some file on her desk by noon." She explained quietly and Ray frowned. Thatcher was always yelling at Fraser during work, but if Robin was staying with them at the Consulate someone would have to explain the difference between The Ice Queen at work and Margaret Thatcher at home.   
         "Well, " he began. "She isn't really mad at him. It's kinda her job to yell at him and stuff."   
         "Why?" asked Robin. Because she enjoys it, Ray almost said.   
         "Um...she's his boss and sometimes there are a lot of other people depending on her and er...she sometimes gets stressed out and takes it out on Fraser." There, that sounded believable, he just hoped it would convince the girl.  It apparently did because her next question was on a completely different subject.   
         "Can I come live with you when you get better?" Ray starred at her in shock.   
         "W..why would you want to live with me?" he demanded surprised. "Don't you like your Aunt?"   
         "She's not really my Aunt." Determined Robin quietly. "She doesn't like me very much and I want to live with Fraser but he said that I can't and she hardly lets him come see me anymore and if I can't be with Fraser I want to be with you." She looked at him hopefully. "Don't you want kids, Ray? I could be your kid and I'd do everything you said and I can clean and cook some and I promise to be real quiet and not bother you and..."   
         "Robin." Interrupted the detective bleakly. "You..you can't stay with me." The look on her face almost killed him, more than the idea of never being able to walk again. God yes he wanted kids and he would give almost anything to keep Robin all to himself, not just because he was already head over heels in love with her, but because it would also be a piece of Vivian to hold on to.   
         "But don't you like me?" she asked, her lower lip trembling.   
        "Of course I do, but the state would never let you come live with me." He insisted gently. "Your Mom granted care to your Aunt Meg and Fraser, they'll take care of you. I'm a bachelor cop, with a record for being emotionally unstable, they'd never let me keep you."   
         "You loved my mama." She pressed and he glanced down at her startled, how could she have known that? "I saw you kissing her. You only kiss people you love." Ray looked away, how did he answer that? Instead, he changed the subject.   
         "Why don't you want to live with That...um...Meg?" he asked gently and Robin hid her face in his shoulder. "Com'ahn, what is it? Tell me, Robin."   
         "I want Auntie Meg to...I want Fraser to live with us too." She whispered shyly. "I love my auntie Meg, but I miss my Mama and I told Mama I would be good and stay with her but....I don't like living in that big ol' apartment. I miss my house and my yard and I want Fraser to tuck me in at night and he can't because he doesn't live with us." Ray hugged her and glanced up, seeing Fraser's quiet figure in the doorway. They exchanged a glance then Ray said to Robin.   
         "It takes time to adjust." He informed soothingly. "Sometimes people don't hit it off well at first. Me and Fraser had some difficult times when we first became partners, but now we're best buds. You need to talk to your aunt and tell her how you feel, Robin. How else will she know that you are unhappy?"   
         "What about Fraser?" she sniffed, having still not noticed her favorite Mountie had entered the room.   
         "Fraser will be here whenever you need him, Robin." The Canadian said and her head turned to look at him surprised to find him standing next to her. She reached up and threw her arms around him and Ray watched the exchange quietly, observing the way his partner's eyes closed as he held the girl that had found her way inside his battered heart.   
         "And so will, I." Ray promised, receiving a small smile from her in return.   
  

         "Come see, Turbey!" cried Robin in delight as she caught hold of Constable Turnbull, hand and pulled him over to the tiger's cage. "Look at him he's playing with that ol' tire! Isn't he silly?"   
         "Oh, I don't know." Remarked Turnbull smiling as he knelt down next to her. "I think it looks like quite a bit of fun don't you?" Robin said something else and made him laugh, as Fraser and Thatcher caught up to them. It was Sunday, the Consulate was closed, and it was a warm spring day and Robin had been adamant about all of them going to the zoo. Turnbull, considering the blundering fool he usually was, had managed to captivate Robin and they laughed and joked together easily, and didn't seem the least bothered by Robin's nickname for him.   
        They were all dressed comfortably in jeans and short sleeve shirts, even Thatcher was looking remarkably relaxed as she watched Robin roar at the tiger then convince Turnbull to do the same. Fraser watched the gentle breeze catch a lock of her dark hair and wisp it about her face playfully and he resisted the urge to catch it and push it back into place, just so he could touch her. She hadn't spoken much to him in the past week and a half since the night she'd asked him to stay and he'd refused. Other than to give him is duties at the Consulate or to inform him that Robin requested his presence at dinner or on an outing.   
Robin had taken well to her new school, already managing to make a new friend, a girl named Tiffany, but the little girl still had some radical behavioral problems and neither Fraser nor Thatcher could understand what was going on with her. One minute she was sweet as pie, the next she was refusing to do as asked and screaming about hating the apartment. Every day she seemed to come home with another story about someone in her class that had a great house and a back yard and two daddies or a mommy and daddy and sisters and brothers, then she would get belligerent again.   
        Robin glanced over at Meg and Fraser and sighed in frustration. There was enough distance between them where they stood to build an amusement park. What was wrong with them? Couldn't they take the hint? She shook her head then a paused as an idea came to her. She ran up to them, dragging a grinning Turnbull behind her. She pushed her Stetson back so she could gaze up and see the two adults properly.   
        "Can we go somewhere for rides and stuff?" she requested hopefully. "I've never been to a fair or anything. Please?"   
        "I don't think there is anything..." Thatcher began, only to have Turnbull interrupt sheepishly.   
        "Excuse me, Sir, if I may?" She nodded warily folding her arms in front of her. "There is am amusement park just south of here. It would only be approximately thirty minutes drive and I hear that it has some delightful rides and attractions." Fraser watched the way Robin's eyes lit up and smiled as Thatcher regarded the other Mountie that towered over them.   
        "May I ask how you know of this park, Constable?" she inquired curious.   
        "Certainly, Ma'am." He allowed. "I helped the local Boys and Girls club select that destination for their annual field trip, we'll be going there next week."   
        "Then why would you want to go now?" she insisted.   
        "Oh, I love amusements, Ma'am." He assured calmly. "And it will also give me an idea of the best rides for the children."   
        "I was unaware that you worked with the Boys and Girls Club, Turnbull." Remarked Fraser impressed.   
        "Oh, yes, Sir." He agreed with a smile. "They like me there, they find me amusing and there is nothing more beautiful and refreshing then a child's laughter, Sir." Fraser smiled, he had no doubt that the overly eager and sometimes befuddling Canadian did indeed keep them entertained, still he was proud of Turnbull for his efforts.   
        "Well done, Turnbull." He offered the smiling giant and watched him blush appropriately. "That is an admirable endeavor."   
        "Thank you, Sir." He gushed pleased to have received such praise from the man he admired most. Fraser turned to Thatcher.   
        "Shall we go then?" he suggested, waiting for his superior's approval. Thatcher nodded and they headed back to the car.   
        They arrived at the amusement park, glad it wasn't too crowded and proceeded to check out the rides. Robin wanted to go on the roller coaster, but she wasn't tall enough, so she begged Thatcher and Fraser go on it so she could watch. Both adults balked at the idea, insisting they were here for her enjoyment not theirs, but she begged and pleaded for them to go, her little eyes even started to tear up when they went to refuse again and so finally they agreed. Robin promised to stay with Turnbull and watch from an observation deck a few feet away, as Thatcher and Fraser got in line. Thatcher kept looking up and up and up, trying to see where the roller coaster ended and the sky began. Fraser could see her trepidation as they moved forward.   
        "I don't imagine it goes much faster than a runaway train." He remarked casually and she shot him an evil glance.   
        "It isn't the speed that worries me Fraser." She insisted as they moved a few steps closer to the ride itself. "It's just so...high."   
        "Yes," agreed Fraser also glancing up at the massive wooden structure. "I suppose that would bother some people." Thatcher started to nod then turned to glare at him.   
        "What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded and Fraser returned her gaze innocently.   
        "It doesn't mean anything." He assured quickly. "It's perfectly normal for some people to be afra..ah...bothered by heights."   
        "You're saying I'm afraid!" she accused as they inched ever closer. "I am not afraid of heights Fraser. Heights do not bother me in the least."   
        "If you say so, Sir." He replied mildly, unable to meet her blazing eyes, for fear he would reveal himself.   
        "I am not afraid, Fraser." She insisted petulantly.   
        "Of course not, Sir." He agreed timidly and then she knew, she knew he was challenging her, daring her to prove him wrong by riding on that huge, wooden monstrosity.   
        "I'll show you who's afraid." She declared stepping forward and handing the operator her ticket with a flourish, then settling to the far side of the boxed seat. Fraser slid in beside her a moment later and the metal bar slid down over their legs, securing them in. Thatcher suddenly realized she'd been had, as she caught Fraser trying to hide his triumphant grin from her. She smacked at his shoulder. "You tricked me!" she hissed.   
        "Guilty as charged, yes ma'am." He agreed honestly looking at her with such wicked amusement in his eyes that she fought to keep her own smile from forming.   
        "I swear Fraser," she began. "If I get sick on..Ahhh!" Their seats jerked forward and proceeded down a slight incline then started its trek to the top. "OMIGOD!"   
        "Just hold on to the bar." Fraser said close to her ear,  his voice tickled with   
amusement, as he watched her hands grip the bar for dear life. She made the mistake of looking down, and caught a glimpse of Robin perched on Turnbull's shoulders, the tall man standing head and shoulders above the crowd on the observation flat, but even he looked like a bare speck in the crowd the higher they rose.   
         Fraser's hand moved over to cover hers and she locked her gaze with his fearfully. He smiled and she started to say something, but suddenly her stomach. liver, heart and intestines were all caught in her throat as they plummeted downwards. She screamed, and was surprised that Fraser did as well, though his sounded more like a laughing shout the panicked cry she had released. A sharp turn threw them against each other with tremendous force, then an opposing turn, another quick heart stopping drop, a tight corner, then they were upside down and the crowd below was waving at them for the briefest possible second. Once again they were upright and headed up the steep incline once more. Thatcher could hear the other passenger's screams mixing with her own, yet it was Fraser's that stood out. He was really enjoying the ride and his giggles were contagious as they were pulled slowly upwards.   
         "Wave to Robin." He instructed, just before they reached the top so Thatcher did and Robin bounced up and down on Turnbull's shoulders excitedly waving back with both hands. Then they were dropping down again and Thatcher squealed as Fraser held her arm up with his own as they descended, until they both had their arms up throughout the ride.   
         The ride came to a stop so suddenly that Thatcher felt like they were still moving and Fraser had to help her out of the seat and onto the exit platform. Her legs felt like Jell-O, her heart was still in her throat, she thought she might throw up and she was dizzy as hell. She'd never felt so wonderful. She laughed as they stepped down from the ride and Robin launched herself at them delighted, speaking a million miles a minute.   
         "I saw you! I saw you!" she squealed delighted, bouncing between them both, as Thatcher wiped the tears from her eyes with one hand while the other arm was still being supported by Fraser. "Did you go really fast! Did you get scared? Were you screaming too? I heard everybody screaming! Was it fun?" Turnbull handed Fraser his hat with a smile.   
         "Yes, no yes and yes." Laughed Fraser in answer to her questions as Thatcher shook her head.   
         "All yes, for my answers!" she smiled as she finally got her bearings and they headed toward another ride that Robin had spotted. "How about something slow, really slow, like that carousel?" Thatcher wasn't quite ready for the jet-dropping thing that Robin was urging them toward.   
         "Okay!" she agreed easily. "Then we can look like real Mounties!" Thatcher laughed and they got in line for the musical ride. She fanned herself, surprised to find that her light colored tee was sticking to her.   
         "We'll stop for a drink after this if you prefer." Suggested Fraser, taking note of her reaction. He was quite warm himself, though it hadn't been the ride, it had been sitting so close to his superior officer, her body being thrust against his in the most delicious way and her laughter once she had loosened up on the ride.   
         "I will go and get us some refreshments if you like, Sir." Suggested Turnbull, over-hearing Fraser's comment.   
         "Don't you want to go on the ride, Turnbull?" asked Thatcher surprised.   
         "Oh, well, I am a little tall for this particular attraction, Ma'am." He relayed embarrassed. "I'd be happy to fetch some drinks."   
         "Thank you kindly, Turnbull." Replied Fraser gently, putting the man's  awkwardness at ease, as he handed him some money from his Stetson. Turnbull smiled and headed off as they stepped up to the beautifully carved carousel. Fraser lifted Robin onto the inside pony, because that one always moved the highest, then helped Thatcher settle on the outer one and took the middle one for himself, after first checking that it would hold his weight. He settled on the horse backwards and leaned against the pole, pulling his hat over his eyes in a lazy and Robin and Thatcher laughed at him.   
         "You're riding it backwards!" giggled Robin delighted as Fraser pretended to be aghast at his blunder. He swung around and winked at her.   
         "I just wanted to see where I had been." He teased and she  reached out to swat him playfully, as the ride began, but as he leaned away from her Thatcher smacked his arm from her side. "Hey! Two against one is hardly fair!" he exclaimed with a grin as he righted himself.   
         "There's Turnby!" Robin pointed to the tall man, who held a tray of assorted food and drinks. He waved at her.   
         "Giddyup Miss. Robin!" he called as she passed and she squealed her best yehaw for him. Fraser laughed, the high pitched giggle that Thatcher had come to love but rarely heard from the usually stoic Mountie.   
         "I haven't been on one of these in years." Declared Thatcher as the beauty and music of the Carousel wrapped them up in its funnel of childhood magic.   
         "That's a shame." Remarked Fraser gently. "Perhaps we should come here more often so..." he stopped as he realized he was insinuating that there would be other times that he would be invited along with her and Robin. As much as he longed for such an occurrence it was not his place to assume. "Forgive me, I...I didn't mean."   
         "Relax, Fraser." Thatcher insisted with a smile. "We're having fun, let's not spoil it." Fraser nodded.   
         "Understood." He agreed as the ride slowed. He helped Robin down, Thatcher jumped off her horse by herself, and then they found Turnbull who had bought them drinks and hot dogs. After they ate and drank their fill, Robin was raring to go, but Fraser insisted they wait until their food had settled, so they explored the game booths instead. Turnbull won a picture of a Unicorn at the dart throw, which of course he presented to Robin. Fraser won her a huge stuffed bear at the basketball throw and Thatcher won her a Cat-in-the-Hat stocking cap at the bottle toss. Robin, ever the diplomat, won a medium sized toy at the ring toss, with Fraser's help, which she traded it in for three smaller prizes, horse shaped key chains, which she presented proudly to each of them.   
        They were passing one of the booths, Turnbull was making Robin laugh by wearing her new stoking cap on his head at a ridiculous angle, when Fraser heard Thatcher's  sharp intake of breath. He followed her gaze to the rifle range, where a beautiful display of International dolls were set high on a shelf for the biggest prize.   
         "They're beautiful." He commented, watching her hand nervously fly to her throat at being caught staring at the dolls.   
         "Yes." She agreed and moved to catch up with Turnbull and Robin. Fraser watched her walk away for a long moment, then glanced back at the booth. He saw the doll that would be his prize and quickly stepped up to offer the man the required two dollars.   
         "Ya gotta get every duck, fella." The man instructed, obviously hinting it was practically impossible. Fraser nodded and picked up the small rifle. He set his aim carefully then nodded at the man to start the shooting gallery in motion. Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping!  Fraser set the rifle down and pointed to the doll he had selected.   
         "The one in the red please." He requested as the man continued to stare at him then at the eight flattened ducks.   
         "But that's...no one can..yer not supposed to..." Fraser glanced down at him and narrowed his eyes.   
         "Are you insinuating this game is fixed, Sir?" he asked politely. "Because if that is so then I am afraid I will have to report you to the proper authorities." The man quickly handed him the doll and Fraser thanked him before wandering off. He caught up with the others at the Tea Cups, Turnbull and Robin were riding, the Mountie was spinning them around with the small wheel in the middle, so fast Fraser worried Robin might get sick, but she was having a ball and telling him to go faster.   
         "Oh, there you are." Observed Thatcher noticing Fraser standing behind her. "Where did you run off to?"   
.         "I went hunting." He told her calmly as she gave him a quizzical look.   
         "Did you catch anything?" she inquired bemused.   
         "As a matter of fact I did." He returned handing her the doll dressed in formal red silk, with imitation ruby and diamond earrings and long dark hair swept up in a chick plantation do. Thatcher gasped and caressed the lovely doll with her fingertips, her pale porcelain skin was cool to the touch and her hair and dress was wonderfully soft and precise.   
         "H...How did..." she wanted to ask him how he could have possibly known which doll had caught her eye so amazingly.   
         "Red suits you." Fraser explained quietly and she felt tears spring to her eyes as Turnbull and Robin returned. She blinked a few times, trying to dispel the moisture before the others caught her bawling, as Robin reached up to tenderly touch the doll in her Aunt's hands.   
         "How pretty!" she exclaimed. "She looks just like you, Auntie Meg." Thatcher blushed prettily and shook her head.   
         "I..I don't know about that." She dismissed shyly. "But she is beautiful, isn't she?" Robin and Turnbull both nodded in agreement. "Fraser won her for me." Her eyes rose and met Fraser's over Robin's head and it was once again like an electrical current passing between the two. Robin glanced up as she stood between them, looking from one to the other, as a slow smile spread across her tiny lips. She glanced over at Turnbull, who was also watching his two superiors and she winked at him, he winked back with a quick grin.   
    
  

        Ray grimaced as he forced his right leg forward, while gripping the parallel bars tightly. This learning to walk again stuff was for the dogs, he thought bitterly. He felt stupid, he hurt like hell and he was about ready to murder the pretty woman that was his therapist.   
         "Not far now," she promised. "You're almost there, Ray. You can do it." He glared at her, if she said that one more time, legs or no legs, he'd find away to pop her one. He slid his left leg forward slowly, his arms shaking with the effort, he was having more trouble with that one. He looked toward the red haired torturer ahead of him, God she seemed so far away, though it was only a few feet.   
         "I can't!" he rasped, his arms were about to give up on him, he had soaked his thin T-shirt with sweat and he was having trouble breathing. Oh, and the pain, let's not forget the searing pain that ripped through him each time he tried to move one of his uncooperative legs. He almost wished he couldn't feel them anymore, it would be better to be numb.   
         "It's only a few more steps." She encouraged relentlessly. "Surely you aren't giving up so easily, I wouldn't have taken you for a quitter." Oh yah, Ray thought, you wouldn't be saying that if I had my gun with me you insensitive, sadistic....   
         "Ray!" Ray's head turned at his name and he saw Fraser striding toward him, his face grim.   
         "Frase." He greeted weakly, his arms would no longer support him and so he dropped, but Fraser caught him with his lightening fast reflexes and helped settle him in his wheel chair.   
         "You shouldn't interfere, Fraser." Insisted the therapist. "He was doing fine." Fraser glared at her and Ray was actually surprised that the Mountie didn't even remotely try to hide it.   
         "He's ready to pass out Angela." He informed her coolly, as he positioned Ray's feet on the stirrups of the chair. "You're pushing him too hard."   
         "Don't tell me how to do my job." She warned. "I'll have you banned from this hospital."   
         "Go to hell." Hissed Ray, wishing to god he could stop shaking and didn't feel so damned useless.   
         "You want to walk again, don't you?' she asked him. "Then you have to work, it's hard work, it's painful, but it will get you walking again."   
         "Please, Fraser." Ray almost whimpered. "Tell me you brought my gun, it's her or me, one of us ain't gettin' out of here alive!" Fraser hid a smile as Angela shot them a cold look.   
         "That isn't remotely amusing, detective." She stated. "Now are you ready to try again or are you going to be a crybaby and quit before your time is up."   
         "Bite me." Ray shot, finally getting some of his strength back. "Take me back, Fraser." Fraser nodded and wheeled Ray from the room, not even bothering to glance back at the livid physiotherapist. Fraser wished Ray had gotten the woman Fraser had had, but she was apparently working at a different hospital now. Back in the room, Fraser easily lifted Ray into the bed and covered him with the sheet. Ray probably could have stood and helped a little, but he was so exhausted he didn't mind being in the Mountie's arms for the few seconds it took.   
         "Would you like some water, Ray?" he asked politely and Ray nodded. Fraser poured him a small glass, from the pitcher on the bed stand and helped him to drink it, noticing his friend's hands were still quite shaky. Ray took a long drink, then lay back on the pillow as Fraser retrieved a cool cloth and wiped at the sweat dampening his face.   
         "Thanks, buddy." He sighed, glad to have the moisture in his mouth again and the cool cloth on his skin. "I don't know how much longer I can stand being cooped up in this place, Fraser."   
         "You're getting better, Ray." Assured Fraser. "It just takes time." Ray grunted.   
         "I can't believe all this is from that stupid cabinet falling on me."   
         "How did it come to fall on you, Ray?" asked Fraser curious.   
         "Oh, well, y'see, I just stood next to it and said com'ahn, fall on me I dare ya!" Ray shrugged. "So it did." Fraser scolded him for his sarcasm.   
          "Ray! What were you doing that it fell on top of you?" Ray shook his head, as though angry at himself.   
         "I was tryin' to move it because I had put this picture on top and it had fallen down behind." He stated grimly. "When I tried to move it just enough to reach the stupid picture the whole thing fell against me and I couldn't get out from under it fast enough."   
         "So, you were trying to keep it from falling by bracing it with your body?" assumed Fraser tightly, angry that Ray would try something so foolish.   
         "It was instinct, okay!" he declared, just as angry with himself for the whole scene. "It started to tip and I tried to catch it, only it didn't work."   
         "And what if I hadn't have thought to come by and check on you, Ray?" demanded Fraser and Ray was surprised that his friend seemed so angry. "What would you have done then, Mr. Instinct?" Ray winced and Fraser immediately regretted his words, but damnit he was angry, this whole thing could have been avoided if Ray had simply had the sense to step out of the way, or not bothered to try and move the heavy cabinet at all.   
         "I know it was stupid, okay!" Ray exclaimed. "We can't always be perfect like you, Fraser."   
         "Stop yelling at me." Demanded Fraser, quietly.   
         "I'm not yelling!" denied Ray hotly.   
         "You are yelling..."   
         "I am not yelling ..."   
         "You are, you're yelling...   
         "Because I'm mad okay?" Ray screamed at him, and noticed an orderly glance in as he past. Ray took a deep breath. "I know this was my own stupid fault. I know I shouldn't have tried to move the damned thing, but I wanted the picture, I...I needed to get the picture..." his voice broke and Fraser observed him concerned.   
         "Who was it a picture of, Ray?" he asked quietly as Ray stared down at his hands.   
         "Vivian." He whispered. "It..she gave it to me when..before she....I wanted Robin to have it so...so she wouldn't miss her Mom so much. I was just getting it to give to Robin." Fraser was silent, he didn't know what to say. He remembered the piece of conversation that Robin had had when he had brought her to see Ray, what she had said about seeing her mother and Ray kissing.   
         "Why didn't you tell me you were in love with Robin's Mother, Ray?" he asked softly and Ray's eyes shot up to meet his, then turned away just as quickly. "Is that why you didn't want to come with us to the funeral? Why you came and left alone and why you seemed so..out of sorts when Vivian announced she was sick?"   
         "I...I...I don't know, Fraser." He sighed dejectedly. "I don't even know if I really was in love with her. I mean, I...I really like your sister Maggie and...I still love Stella,   
but Vivian....I don't know. It was different. We..we kinda connected from the first time we met." He shook his head, trying to clear the fog of memories that were making it difficult to think and speak clearly.              "We..we kissed a few times...talked a lot." He smiled. "She'd call me late at night and just talk about everything and nothing, I...she said I was easy to talk to. I never had anyone say that to me before. I told her things I'd never told anyone, except for you." He shrugged again. "She was special, she made me feel special. Then, when I found out she was sick, I...I didn't know what to do, how...how to make things better for her. She never told me, all those times we talked, she never told me once...and ..."   
        Again his voice broke and he looked away as ironically the sounds of The Heart Will Go On was piped through the hospital's speaker system, replacing the previous elevator music. "Aw no." he whimpered covering his face with his hands. "Not that." Fraser lowered his own eyes, although he found the haunting melody quite beautiful, he remembered that it was a song about parting after a death and he moved to embrace his friend who was now sobbing quietly. He rocked Ray gently, making small circles on the detective's back, trying to soothe his trembling. It had been a bad month for all of them, mostly it seemed for Ray.   
         "It's alright, Ray." He whispered, wishing he could do more. "She's in a better place now." Ray nodded and pulled away as Fraser offered him a handkerchief. The Mountie suspected that it was more than the particular song about death that had caused the usually strong blond man to break down, it was simply the straw that broke the camel's back. Now Ray sat silently, sniffing occasionally, his eyes still glazed over and his cheeks red and streaked with tears.   
         "I gotta get outta here, Frase." He stated brokenly. "You gotta get me outta here. I'm crackin' up."   
         "Crying doesn't necessarily mean you're going crazy, Ray." Stated Fraser wryly, though they were no longer holding each other, he remained seated on the bed. "It's a relief from stress."   
         "I threatened to shoot my therapist." Defied Ray, with a small grin.   
         "That also doesn't mean anything." Fraser assured wisely. "She was aggravating you and you always want to shoot something that aggravates you. You've threatened to do me in a few times." That brought a full smile to Ray's lips and Fraser breathed a little easier that he had managed to turn his partner's mood around. "Besides, they won't release you until you're walking better."   
         "Frase," began Ray patiently. "I'm not walking hardly at all now."   
         "Well, there you are then." He surmised. "You'll just have to get after it."   
         "You sound like Atilla, now, Fraser." Warned Ray, although even with the name Fraser knew he was speaking of Angela.   
         "I'm not saying she isn't right and that you need to work at it, Ray." He perceived. "I just happen to think she's pushing you to hard."   
        "Can't you be my therapist?" he inquired eagerly. "If I have to see that witch one more time I swear...":   
         "I'm not qualified, Ray."   
         "The hell yer not!" he exclaimed. "You said ya went through it yerself and I'm sure ya gotta know some Inuit thingy that will get me back on my feet again."   
         "I have a minimal amount of knowledge of how to help repair the damage to your muscles, Ray." Fraser admitted quietly. "But I am neither a licensed or qualified physiotherapist." Ray grunted. "Perhaps if you weren't so mean to her, Ray."   
         "What?" demanded Ray indignantly. "You expect me to laugh and say 'oh yah, angel just keep the pain comin' I'm into that kinky shit?"   
         "That isn't what I mean at all, Ray." Sighed Fraser. "You can be charming, I've seen you do it many times. Just be a little nicer toward her, let her know that you are trying instead of taking her head off every time she speaks, and maybe she'll me more sympathetic toward you."   
         "I will not suck up to her, Fraser." Refused Ray adamantly. "She's worse than the Ice Queen ever could be." Fraser shrugged.   
         "Suit yourself." He replied. "I'm just telling you how to make it easier on yourself." Ray was brooding, and Fraser left it at that, as he stood to leave. "I have to go pick up Robin at school."   
         "Tell her I said hi." Offered Ray quietly, obviously still thinking about what Fraser said, as Fraser no doubt knew he would.   
         "I'll be by tomorrow." His partner assured and Ray nodded. Ray glanced out his window. Be nice to Angela, hmm...what could it hurt?   
  

         Fraser, Thatcher and Robin sat in the small booth at the Italian restaurant, enjoying a delicious dinner. Robin had insisted that she was big enough to sit on one side of the booth by herself, which left the other side for Fraser and Thatcher.   
         "Move your drink a little further in on the table, Robin." Suggested Thatcher, not wanting the girl to catch her glass on her sleeve and spill it over the edge.   
         "I like it there." She protested.   
         "Do as your mo..ah, I mean move it in, please Robin." Robin shrugged and pushed her glass closer to the middle, the corners of her little pink mouth threatened to turn up in a small grin at Fraser's slip. He had almost referred to her Aunt Meg as her mother, just like her daddy used to do with her real Mother. She glanced over at the woman sitting quietly beside him, staring at him intently as though trying to read his mind, but Fraser took a sudden interest in his food and refused to meet her gaze.   
         "Can we get a house, Auntie Meg?" Robin asked suddenly, startling Thatcher out of her quiet observation of Fraser.   
         "A house?" she asked surprised. "What's wrong with where we live now?"   
         "There isn't any room to play and I want a back yard." Explained Robin  calmly. "And besides, Tiffany's mother said it's much easier to catch a man if you offer a stable home environment." Thatcher choked on her water, Fraser on his mouthful of food, but Robin continued as though nothing had happened. "I need to get a daddy pretty soon, so he doesn't miss all the neat stuff of me growin' up. Sides, in school they have father daughter things and I'll need a Daddy to part..parp..parpit..."   
         "Participate." Croaked Thatcher, catching her breath finally. Robin smiled.   
         "Yeah, that." She agreed as she reached for a roll and spooned some spaghetti on her fork. "Anyway, I got you for my Mom, so now I need a dad, y'know for things like boys and proms and first dates and stuff. Tellin' me how to watch out for mean guys and taking care of me and protecting me. That's what Daddies do."   
         "Excuse me for a moment, please." Requested Fraser placing his napkin on the table and rising from the booth. "I need to call and check on Ray." Thatcher and Robin nodded, but Thatcher's eyes never left him as he walked stiffly away. Had she detected a tremble in his voice, or had she been imagining it?  She frowned and turned her attention back to Robin, who was now discussing the crafts she had made in school.   
         Fraser strode past the telephones and headed outside, he suddenly craved air so badly he felt like he was about to suffocate. Outside he leaned against the building, his breath coming in deep, painful gasps, as though he had been running a marathon. He felt tears sting his eyes and his chest hurt so badly he wondered if he might be having a heart attack. He stumbled away from the building to a bench near by and collapsed atop it, struggling to keep the pain and the tears at bay.   
         "That's done it, Son." Remarked Robert Fraser from behind him.   
         "N..not now Dad, please." Croaked Fraser, n no shape to deal with his dead Father's ramblings.   
         "Well, don't just sit there like a lump on a log, son." Scolded Robert. "Go take that little girl in your arms and tell her you'll be her Father for God's sake!"   
         "I..I can't!" Fraser wheezed, never had he felt such pain, e honestly was beginning to believe he might die on this bench. "S...she's not my charge. Vivian gave Margaret custody."   
         "Oh, nonsense!" huffed Robert, as he leaned in and half disappeared inside the mailbox close to them so that his voice echoed off the metal. "That's just a technically. Go in and ask that Inspector woman to marry you and then you can be the child's Father. Honestly , Son you can be so dense sometimes." Fraser managed the strength to glare at him.  "Y'know, I never understood why they ever replaced the pony express, It was much more personal and a hell of a lot faster then now a days. That was when men  took pride in their work, yes'sir. Galloping across the prairies, through sleet and snow and..well, whatever the rest was." He straightened at looked at the pale features of his Son. "You look terrible , Son. You should see a doctor about that complexion of yours, why you're paler than I am and I'm dead."   
         "Go away, Dad." Muttered Fraser, finally getting himself composed.   
         "Not until you go in there and claim that adorable child as your own." Robert smiled. "She's got the spunk to be a Fraser, yes I sure do like her, Son. I surely do."   
         "You never listen to yourself, obviously, but can't you once, just once, listen to me?" demanded Fraser angrily. "I cannot go in there and propose to Margaret just like that so I can have Robin. It isn't fair to either of them."   
         "Oh, nonsense," dismissed Robert. "I've seen the way you look at her, you're in love with that pretty inspector of yours and the very idea of her marrying someone else and raising Robin with a stranger as her Father is what's tearing you up inside. Don't try to deny it Son, I know these things." Fraser shot him another powerful glare, one that might indeed have killed him if the damned man wasn't dear already!   
         "You don't understand, as usual, Dad." He sighed. "My feelings don't matter. Margaret...Inspector Thatcher is my superior officer. She..I...we cannot pursue a relationship it would be inappropriate."   
         "Her words, Son." Stated Robert. "Her words, not yours. You know what's right you just need to follow your heart , Ben. That little girl needs a Father." Fraser sneered at him and stood, the pain in his chest receding.   
         "What do you know about love and being a Father, you were never around." If his barb hurt his Father Robert never showed it.   
         "I know what that woman and that little girl in there needs, Benton." Returned Robert quietly. "And so do you. Be a man and accept it." Fraser raised his head to retort but as usual his Father had popped out again. Fraser gritted his teeth-always that man had to have the last word.   
    
  

         "Time to work, sunshine." Greeted Angela cheerily, as she entered his room the next morning, then braced herself for Ray's usual angry barb. She was shocked when he offered her a dazzling smile and reached for his chair, obviously eager to get started. She had sent word that he was to be dressed in sweats with swim trunks underneath, although Ray didn't understand why at the time, he had abided her wish. Now he pulled his chair close to the bed and managed to swing his legs over the side. Angela held the chair for him as he pushed himself into the seat. She adjusted the leg stirrups and straightened.   
         "You're looking very pretty today." Offered Ray, still smiling and she cast him a wary glance.   
         "They weren't supposed to drug you before therapy." She stated cautiously and Ray laughed.   
         "They didn't." he assured easily as she pushed him from the room. "Just eager to get started." She shot him another suspicious glance as they waited for the elevator.   
         "You're in a good mood." She observed as they moved inside and the doors slid closed. "What's wrong?" He smiled at her and she silent wished he'd stop doing that. It was much easier to stay focused with him when he was being belligerent, now he seemed intent on being charming and damned if it wasn't working.   
         "Nothin's wrong." He promised calmly as she wheeled him out of the elevator and toward the recreation room. They went inside and she pulled the chair to a stop next to the pool. Ray shot the cool blue water a wary glance. "W...why are we stopping here?"   
         "This is where we are doing your therapy this morning." She told him as she pulled her top over her head, then pulled down her jeans, revealing a simple one piece blue swimsuit. Ray glanced from her to the water than back again. He reached down to unlock the breaks on the chair.   
         "I changed my mind." He muttered as he started to roll the chair forward, away from the pool, but she caught the arm rests and planted herself in front of him.   
         "I knew the real you was in there." She sneered. "That you were only pretending to be a decent human being." Ray glared at her.   
         "I wasn't pretending." He declared angrily. "I was in a good mood until...." He glanced at the pool again and couldn't help but shiver. "Let's just do the normal therapy. What's wrong with that?" Angela's face softened, observing the apprehension in his beautiful blue eyes.   
        "You can't swim, can you?' she assumed quietly and Ray lowered his eyes ashamed. He could do that bloom kick thing, but that was when his legs were working properly. He shook his head and she offered him a gentle smile. "We won't be swimming. We'll stay in the shallow end and do exercises, it's a little easier because of the bouancy from the water." Ray shook his head. He could barely stand on land, he'd have no chance in the water. "I won't let you drown, Ray." She promised. Ray sighed and glanced at the water again. Be nice, Fraser had said. To get out of there he had to be able to walk, to walk he had to depend on the woman next to him.   
    After a deep breath he nodded and she moved him back over toward the pool, locked the chair in place and helped him remove his sweats. He didn't know which was worse, the idea of going in that water, or the fact that he was so exposed in front of Angela. She sat him on the edge of the pool, then pulled him with her, floating under him, her body supporting his. Ray panicked at first, not used to having to completely trust her to keep his head above the water, and the lack of control was almost his undoing. His thrashing sent them both under the water, but in seconds Angela had them surfaced again and once more moved beneath him. Her arm was around his chest, her mouth next to his cheek, as she paddled backwards, getting him used to the water.   
         "Enough!" he croaked, unable to dispel his panic. If Fraser were here that he would probably be okay, he knew that Fraser could support him, but he had doubts about the slim woman that now moved beneath him.   
         "It's okay." She soothed, as they moved. "Just relax, I'm not going to let you go, Ray." They floated backwards, his head supported between her chest and shoulder. "See, it's easy, I've got you." Ray started to relax, slowly, as her soft voice and body coerced him to. " Move your hands a bit, it will help you stay afloat." She showed him how with her own hands and Ray did as she instructed, well, that was the easy part. "Now, try and kick your legs a bit." Ray was afraid that if he tried he'd throw her off balance again, like he had when he panicked earlier. "It's okay. Try it, Ray."   
        He took a deep breath and willed his left leg to move, which it did, briefly. Then he tried the other one and that one kicked some too. In a few moments he managed to get both of his legs moving in a semi slow rhythm, the water did help make the moves smoother and the sweat from his excerptions were quickly countered by the cool water around him. He was concentrating so hard on what he was doing that he was almost startled when Angela spoke again.   
        "Ray?"   
        "Hmm?"   
        "You're swimming." She said amused and he suddenly realized that, though she was still close enough to hold him, she was no longer supporting him, he was keeping himself afloat and moving backwards in the water. His realization gained him a mouthful of water, as he stopped moving from the shock. Angela had him breathing air in seconds. She moved him so he could lean on the side of the pool and shake the water from his face and hair. "I'm sorry." She offered quickly. "I didn't think you'd stop kicking." When he went under she had been as surprised as he had, and she'd broken her vow not to let him go under, even if it had been a surprise.   
        "I was swimming!" he laughed as shock lit up her pretty features. She thought he'd be furious at her. "I can't believe it!" His good humor was contagious and soon she was laughing too, glad he had seemed to get a step over at least part of his fear.   
         "Does that mean you want to continue?" she asked. She could see he was tired already, the therapy always took a lot out of him and was surprised again when he nodded.   
         "Please." He requested, his gaze locking with hers. "I..I'm sorry I was such an asshole before. I didn't...I was..." She placed a hand on his arm and shook her head.   
         "I'm used to it." She assured. Many of her patients took out their anger on her, she would just turn it around to work for them in their therapy, as she had with Ray, but she had to concede, she had pushed him beyond the limit yesterday. Fraser had been right to rescue him. "I..I shouldn't have pushed you so hard, I'm sorry too." Ray gave her that dazzling smile of his and she felt her heart melt.   
         "Truce?" he offered her his hand, careful to keep the other braced on the pool railing. She nodded and shook it.   
         "Truce." She agreed, then pulled him toward her and kicked off from the edge. "Back to work." Ray gave a halfhearted groan.   
         "Slave driver." He murmured, but he was smiling when he said it.   
         "Always." She replied, returning his smile. 

         Fraser checked his uniform for the third time in the last five minutes, making sure everything was straight once more. Diefenbaker whined at him from his place on the cot.   
         "I am not obsessing." Protested Fraser. "I..I just want to look my best, that's all." The wolf huffed at him and Fraser shot him a glare. "There's no need to be sarcastic, you know. I'm doing this for you too. You don't want some other wolf..er dog playing with Robin and sleeping on her bed with her at night do you?" The wolf whined contritely. "Well there you are then." Finally deciding he was ready he checked his pocket for the small box that he had picked earlier from the jewelers, he opened his office door, then closed it again and leaned against it. "I can't do this. She'll say no, I know she will and I'll end up looking like a fool again!"   
         "There you go again, Son." Sighed Robert Fraser coming out of the closet that led to his northern cabin. "Always looking at the negative side o things. Take a chance, leap in, forget about orders and regulations and just remember that you're a man and she's a woman and well...there you are. The rest is easy."   
         "Dad, you really are not helping." Sighed Fraser pulling at his ear nervously. "She's my senior officer..."   
        "She's a warm blooded woman." Countered Robert.   
        "I'm her subordinate..."   
         "You're a man."   
         "It isn't appropriate..."   
         "It wasn't appropriate for me to burn down our cabin and shack up in that igloo with your mother, for six months either, but if we hadn't you wouldn't be here today Son."   
         "Dad, that is totally different."   
         "There's no difference at all."Insisted Robert profusely. "There's no rank involved when you're in love, Son. You have to go with your gut do as your heart tells you and to hell with everything else. How else do you think I won your Mother from Buck Frobisher? She was sweet on him you know? But no, I stood my ground and I made my claim and you have to do the same. Now get out there and make me proud, Son. This will be your greatest adventure. Be all you can be. "Fraser shook his head.   
         "That's the Amy, dad." He sighed. "I'm not entering a military power I'm asking Margaret to marry me."   
         "No, you're not, Son."Observed Robert frowning. "You're sitting here talking to a dead man. Now go out there and get your woman." Fraser stood and left, if for no other reason then to get away from his Father's babbling, but when he turned back to thank him, his Robert Fraser had already disappeared, once again managing to avoid an emotional overture from his Son. Fraser shook his head again and strode to Thatcher's office. He knocked quickly on the door then waited for her to bid him entry.   
     "Yes, Fraser?" she asked glancing up from the reports on her desk. "What is it?" Fraser hesitated for only a moment, then slid inside and closed the door, Thatcher noticed he looked decidedly pale. "Is there anything wrong, Constable? Are you ill?"   
        "No, Sir." He assured quickly, wishing to God that he was better at saying what he was feeling. He moved closer, though he still stood at attention. "P..permision to speak freely, Sir." He blinked but didn't quite meet her eyes. "A..As..not as officers, superior to subordinate, but r..rather a man to a w..woman." Thatcher sat back and regarded him amused, now he was blushing.   
        "Can't it wait until after office hours, Fraser" she suggested and she saw a hint of panic cross his face.   
         "Er..no, sir." He refused. "I..I don't think so." If he didn't do it now he never would. After a long moment she nodded.   
        "Alright..Ben." she agreed."What is it you would like to say." Fraser took a deep breath and if she didn't know better the Mountie was actually trembling.   
        "I...I know that we...er...you and I...have been through many....um...adventures together." He began, wishing it wasn't so god awful hot in here and that his throat wasn't suddenly so dry. "I..I have always admired you as a..superior officer as well as a woman." Thatcher got the sneaking suspicion he was trying to recall a pre written speech.   
         "Spit it out, Fraser." She sighed, wishing she could do something to help ease his discomfort. Fraser swallowed and cracked his neck in that nervous jerk of his, then pulled the small square velvet box from his pocket.   
         "M..Meg would...." Thatcher squealed and he jumped in fright, afraid she'd have him transferred immediately for whatever it was he had done to entice such a reaction, or possibly even strangle him with his own lanyard.   
         "I..Is that a...Fraser is that what I think its is?" she demanded staring at the box in his hand. Fraser was almost afraid to answer her, she was looking at him rather oddly now and frankly it was staring to scare him.   
        "I..I...yes, I think so." He stammered nervously. "It's a..."   
         "Wait!" she cried, causing him to jump again. If she kept screaming at him he was sure that he would suffer a heart attack, his pulse rate shot up a few notches with each response. She leapt from her chair and came around to the front of her desk. "Okay now." She decreed and Fraser opened his mouth. "Wait!" she snatched up her phone and told Turnbull to hold her calls and no one was to disturb them. She didn't want to take the chance of being interrupted and Fraser loosing his nerve. She slammed the phone back down and perched on her desk again. She nodded then told him to wait for a third time as she took his hand and scurried across the room to her sofa, perching nervously on the edge.   
         "Now?" Fraser asked, trying to hide his own amusement at her behavior.   
        "Now." She agreed with a shy smile. Fraser bent on one knee and opened the box to reveal a beautiful diamond solitaire. He removed the ring as she offered him her left hand shakily.   
         "Margaret Thatcher, will you do me the honor of being my wife?" he requested softly as he held the ring just at the tip of her third finger, awaiting her reply.   
         "You aren't just doing this to be a Father to Robin?"' she demanded suddenly and Fraser shook his head.   
         "That is part of it." He admitted. "I love her." Thatcher frowned and he touched her cheek tenderly."I love you as well, Meg, please marry me and make us a family?"   
         "Yes." She almost sobbed as he slid the ring on her finger, then she threw her arms around him. "Yes!" he rose and pulled her with him, swinging her around, then setting her on her feet to give her the most passionate and tender kiss Thatcher had ever experienced, leaving her breathless. She smiled up at him. "I can't wait to tell Robin."   
         "Let's go and tell her right now." Suggested Fraser laughing. Thatcher laughed too and nodded eagerly. She retrieved her purse and they walked out arm in arm, past Turnbull, who surprisingly didn't even bat an eyelash.   
         "We'll be out for the rest of the afternoon, Turnbull."Explained Fraser. "Please take care of things while we are gone."   
         "Certainly, Sir." Agreed Turnbull readily. "Enjoy your day, Ma'am." Thatcher nodded to him and followed her fiancée out, admiring the way her ring caught the sunlight, later she would tell him about how much fun strip poker could be. Turnbull sat back and smiled. "Well done, Miss. Robin. Well done indeed." 

         Ray tucked the last of his things into his tote bag, glanced around to see if he had left anything, then retrieved his cane from the bedpost as Angela walked in.   
         "Ready to go, I see?" she remarked with a smile and he returned her greeting.   
         "More than ready." He assured grinning. "I'll be good as new in no time." His eyes softened in that childlike way of his. "Thanks to you." She shrugged.   
         "You did all the work." She reminded. "I just sat around and got to feel you up on occasion." Ray laughed and slowly walked over to her, his left leg was still quite stiff, which was why he had the cane, but it was getting there. He leaned down and kissed her cheek affectionately.   
       "Thank you." He offered her gently and was surprised when she blushed and lowered her eyes.   
         "You were a pain in the ass," she flipped. "But you're welcome anyway." Ray chuckled and reached to squeeze her hand as Fraser and Robin walked in. The girl threw herself at Ray, and he was glad he had the bed behind him or he would have lost his balance for sure. He tossed the cane on the bed and picked her up into his arms, giving her a big kiss and a hug.   
         "Robin, this is Angela." He introduced the two. "She helped me to get better." Robin, still in Ray's arms, held out her hand to the therapist and Angela shook it impressed.   
         "It's nice to meet you." The child offered politely and Angela returned the sentiment.   
         "Are you Ray's little girl?" she inquired smiling, she hadn't noticed a wedding ring on the blonde's finger, and she missed the quick exchange of the detective and Mountie over Robin's head.   
         "I'm Ray's and Fraser's and Auntie Meg's." Robin informed her calmly. "They're my family now 'cause my Mama died and left me to them." If Angela was shocked by the child's candor she didn't show it.   
         "How lucky you are." She agreed instead. "To have two such handsome men to take care of you." Fraser smiled, Ray blushed and Robin giggled, snuggling into Ray contentedly.   
         "Ray's gonna build me a wooden house, because our card house fell down, and a spaceship to fly to the moon." She told Angela boldly. "And Fraser's gonna show me how to be a real Mountie and how to play the guitar." She leaned closer to the woman, trusting that Ray would not let her fall from her precarious perch, and she whispered. "Auntie Meg and Fraser are gonna get married and Ray said he'd wait until I get old enough and then he'd marry me, but I think that's a long time to wait, so do you wanna marry him and move in with us too?" Angela stared at her shocked as Ray set Robin on her feet with a nervous giggle.   
         "Kids!" he excused, clearing his throat. "What doesn't come out of their mouth?" Fraser hid his smile, retrieved Ray's bag and took hold of Robin's hand.   
         "We'll wait for you out here, Ray." He offered leading the girl out with a conspiring wink to Ray, who had been delighted when Fraser asked him to be his best man at their wedding next week.  Ray cleared his throat again and reached for his cane, unable to stop grinning.   
         "I can't believe she said that." He apologized meekly. "I'm sorry, she can be..un..unpredictable at times." Angela smiled and waved his apology aside.   
         "She's a child," she stated calmly. "Everything is cut and dried when you're young." Ray nodded.   
     "Yah," he agreed.  "But she's a pretty cool kid."   
         "Pretty wise too, I think." Remarked Angela taking a step closer to him, praying that her instincts were right and that she hadn't imagined the attraction growing between them the past few weeks.   
         "Yah." Nodded Ray quietly, as he took a step toward her. "She's pretty smart." Another step and they were almost touching each other. "You're pretty smart too."   
         "Oh?" she asked, wondering if her voice really sounded as breathless as it seemed to. "Why?"   
         "You taught me somethin' real important." He was near enough to kiss her now, all he had to do was lower his head as she raised hers and their lips would meet.   
         "W..what was that?" she whispered as a slow grin spread across his face.   
         "To take things one step at a time." He murmured. She smiled as his head moved downward and his lips closed over hers.   
    
    
  

THE END   
  


End file.
